


Cirque Du Klance

by princekalon



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adult Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Circus, Awkward Keith, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Circus Performers, Cute, Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Flirting, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), M/M, There's some art, cheesy pick up lines, klance, lotor - Freeform, maybe smut, shallura - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princekalon/pseuds/princekalon
Summary: Even though Keith doesn't typically like circuses, he finds his mind constantly stuck on Lance McClain, one of the most well-known aerial performers in Vegas, who has managed to tumble and flip his way into Keith's heart.





	1. Lance the Prince

**Author's Note:**

> This is a not-for-profit fanwork. All characters are the property of their respective copyright holders.
> 
> With the help of my partner and friend Dami Maxtael (spacedaddy_ on Instagram), chapter one of Cirque Du Klance is out! I got a lot of inspiration from artists I found a while ago and I'll be including their art in the story with their permission. Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance's costume inspiration credits go to seitenma on tumblr :)
> 
> Keith and Shiro scene inspiration credits go to salamandraimoral on tumblr :)

The soft yet anticipatory whispers of the crowd drifted to the center stage of the theater, where a performer waited patiently while he dangled, suspended from his aerial silks as he balanced precariously, long arms wrapped around his chest. His cue was coming, and his grip tightened, eyes twinkling in the darkness.

The audience knew what was coming too; it was more than likely that the majority of them had come to his show more than once, unable to resist the beauty of it all.

The narrator read through the character’s introduction and he tuned it out; this definitely was not the first time he had heard the speech. What he was truly waiting for was _the_ line. The line that meant he could move and relish being the center of attention.

_“Au milieu de l'hiver, j'ai découvert en moi invincible été.”_

The music began softly, and he shivered. As soon as the music quickened in pace, he fell to the side, using the silk as his balance. His first appearance was always powerful, and the responding “wow,” from the people sent a pleasant thrill through his chest. As he gracefully spun, he eventually let himself go to dangle from the ribbons. The crowd was in an awed silence as he worked his magic. Lance pulled himself up slowly, casting shy and flirty glances in the direction of the onlookers.

Soon, the music began to slow in tempo and Lance fought the urge to smile. This was probably his favorite part of the whole routine, and he slowly began winding himself up, the gentle touch from the silk on his bare skin a familiar feeling. Grabbing it over his head, he stared out to the crowd, a small smile gracing his features. Then, the beat dropped, and so did Lance. This part was quick and eye catching, and Lance allowed gravity to lead the way, his body expertly moving in autopilot from years of experience. He caught himself halfway down, only to slowly rewrap his body like a gift on Christmas Eve. Flipping forwards, he dropped straight down and heard audible gasps. Ignoring them, he pulled himself back up to a similar seating position not much different from how he started, and offered the audience blown kisses and sweet smiles. 

Not soon after, Lance lowered himself towards the ground, and as soon as he did he cast the crowd a woeful expression, falling back. One hand held the silk while his other fell limp by his side. He twirled in lazy circles before rising once again, sliding into a slow split when he reached the ground. He bounced and rolled, spinning in ways that made the viewers dizzy with wonder. His face tugged at their heartstrings, leading them through an emotional but explosive story with no dialogue.

The show he was a part of was split into four main storylines to follow the four seasons: Winter, spring, summer, and fall. Each season had its own emotion to go along with it, and of course, each season had its own costume. For today’s show his hair was dyed white, making his ocean blue irises shine even brighter. The blue makeup that surrounded his eyes like a butterfly and covered his shoulders and navel, sparkled with silver glitter and matched the ombre cutout leotard he wore unabashedly. The makeup artists really outdid themselves this time; were the teal symbols painted delicately on his skin really necessary? However, he knew he looked like a prince and couldn’t help the small smirk that stretched his face as he curved his body in a scorpion, spinning in every way possible. 

 

 

 

He was the main protagonist of this story, and there was no place he would rather be than there.

 

* * *

 

Keith wanted to be anywhere but here. His brother, Shiro, had practically begged him to come watch his circus act, and Keith – defenseless against Shiro’s charm – had grudgingly caved in to his request. Which explains why he found himself sitting in a front row seat, face bright red, as he stared up at the dark stage.

His best friend, Pidge, nudged his side with her elbow, hissing, “At least pretend you’re comfortable.” Keith shot her a look. If she noticed, she didn’t seem to show it. “Remember we're here for Shiro, okay?”

Shiro had effortlessly convinced Pidge to come. Stuff like this wasn’t in her comfort zone either, but Pidge was willing to do anything for Shiro. She said anyone who could put up with her nerd brother, immediately had her utmost respect. So when Shiro had asked her to attend and support him, she got this eerie glint of determination in her hazel eyes and ganged up on Keith to force him to come.

Keith sighed, knowing better than to try and argue with her. A sudden shift in the air interrupted his thoughts, as a spotlight illuminated a decently tall tan boy, with his back facing the audience. Keith was at a loss for words, wondering how on earth he could sit perfectly still while balancing on basically nothing. The only thing holding the boy upright were two long grey silks that reached the ground, and Keith couldn’t help but wonder if the performer had ever experienced fear during his routines. 

He was the only one on stage, and Keith figured he was the main protagonist. He couldn’t help but glance around and study the audience’s facial expressions; it seemed as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something. 

All of a sudden, the word, “Birth” rang clear and crystal, and Keith couldn’t help but start at the sudden sound. “This story begins with birth, the birth of the prince.”

Even though Keith could only see his back, he didn’t doubt for a second that the aerial boy was as gorgeous as the narrator described him. The narrator continued, “The prince was born in the winter time, surrounded by snow and ice. His every birthday was covered in white, and he only knew cold and darkness. He wasn’t sure where his place in the world was and that left him as a child, no matter how much he aged.” Keith could hear the small beginnings of music seep through the speakers, but low enough so as not to obstruct the narration. “But this boy, this _child_ , soon had to grow up. When everything he knew was taken from him – his friends, his family, and his home – he soon became a man, aging with every tear he shed.

_“Au milieu de l'hiver, j'ai découvert en moi invincible été.”_

The music became infinitely louder, and Keith was unable to tear his eyes away from the stage for the rest of the night.

He felt ridiculously small and couldn’t help but compare his body to the performers. It wasn’t as if he didn’t work out, which he most certainly did, but it was just the fact that their bodies were so toned and perfect it was unnatural. They were practically Greek gods; or what Keith would imagine Greek gods to be.

The intro and was amazing, lots of colors and sound and spinning – so much spinning – that he was scared to blink in case he missed something. Keith would be lying if he said the performers’ movements did not mesmerize him. The main character moved with the ribbon as if it were a piece of his body, and stretched his long legs flawlessly. Keith barely had time to admire a perfect split before the music quickened and he began spinning rapidly, twisting and flipping as if gravity simply did not exist for him. Keith observed that the boy wore a crown and thought silently that the costume designers had put the crown on the right person; this man had to be a prince in real life.

Shiro had gone into great lengths describing the cast and the storyline to him, and Keith knew, without a doubt, that the “graceful aerial silk acrobat” Shiro always bragged about had to be him.

Lance McClain.

Keith’s eyes widened as Lance stepped onto the stage, tip toeing along the side to scan the eager faces with a flirtatious grin. Keith had never cursed his brother more because when Lance reached him, he paused, looked Keith up and down, and blew him a kiss with a wink before continuing his act.

_He just blew me a kiss. The hot guy just blew me a kiss._

Pidge nudged his shoulder, smiling ear-to-ear, and Keith turned a darker shade of red then he already was. He knew, rationally, that he shouldn’t feel special. Shiro told him that the prince in the show was a giant flirt at first, and in the beginning of his story he’s immature, reckless, and a showboat, hence the rapid spinning, sexy glances, and the ridiculously tight costume that left nothing to the imagination. Whirling around, Lance leapt up, rotating at an intense speed. Keith was speechless, and Lance slid into a split, barely moving as the silks were drawn up to the ceiling.

Keith sighed in his seat, slightly shaken by such a fiery performance, clasping his hands together while he tried to calm his nerves, anxiously waiting to see Shiro on the trapeze and for the extravaganza to come to an end.

Right at that moment, the lights dimmed and the music seemed to dull to a whisper. He glanced around, wondering if perhaps something malfunctioned in the tech, but he noticed everyone’s faces were glued to the ceiling. He squinted up into the darkness but could see nothing. Before he worked up the courage to ask the person seated beside him what was happening, the lights directed their attention onto the narrator, who was walking casually from one of the stage to the other, and he spoke a single sentence, once again startling Keith.

“After he lost everything he knew, the prince met two creatures. They hoped he would feel their love and use it to find strength within himself.”

The lights dimmed when the narrator walked away, before relighting, and Keith couldn’t help the small grin that spread across his face as he proudly peered at his brother.

Shiro’s routine was shorter and more intimate than Lance’s; there happened to be a lot of sweet touches and gentle moves, and Shiro’s eyes never left his partner once. Shiro had told him a lot about his new partner – Allura – and Keith knew they had hit it off well in spite of the fact they didn’t know the other very long. The routine required more trust than Keith could imagine.

Keith wasn’t entirely sure how much of the romantic atmosphere was part of the choreography though; Shiro and his partner seemed infatuated with each other, and from the way Shiro had described her, he was head over heels. Keith couldn’t be too mad at his brother. Although he was gay, he still knew beauty when it was in front of him, and that woman was flawless. Her skin was a warm brown, and she wore a short, pastel pink dress, decorated with small roses. The color matched the glittering ribbons weaved through her hair, and every time she moved it was as if they caught the light. Shiro’s outfit matched Allura’s, but was the darker version. Instead of the pastel pink theme, he was dressed in all black, minus the white streak in his hair, and it was as if the two of them were king and queen, complimenting each other through style and dance. The romantic chemistry was obvious, and Keith loved it, although he made a mental note to tease Shiro about it later.

Keith was defeated. He had come with the intent to hate it just to spite Shiro, but the entire thing was so beautiful that he couldn’t help but be sucked into the spell the lights cast over you.

 

* * *

 

Lance had twirled, leapt, flipped, and spun all night and he could feel the blood rushing to his head. Although it was uncomfortable, the feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant. When he had posed with the rest of his performers in the center of the stage to take his bow, the cheers and shouts of the satisfied crowd filled him to the brim with amiable energy. He had beamed childishly and waved to everyone, blowing kisses to the series’ fans. He didn’t know where he would be without this show.

When the platform descended into the bottom of the stage, the actors hugged and kissed one another to celebrate another night gone perfectly well.

Someone’s arm draped over his shoulder and Lance turned in surprise. “Lance McClain, here again with another perfect show.”

He grinned. “But what would a prince be without his singer?” He wiped his sweating palm onto the side of his outfit – there were so many cutouts that the side was the only part that worked as a temporary towel – and clapped his hands together. “Hunk, you were great out there!”

“Is Lance pretending to be humble?” Lance and Hunk glanced up to see Shiro their senior, striding over to them with a hand on his hip. His character was what you could call a human-alien hybrid, and Lance whistled.

“Says the one looking a bit too good in those tights,” he flirted, batting his lashes as Hunk pretended to gag.

Shiro ignored him and patted Hunk on the head. “I’d say that was one of our best shows yet, don’t you think?”

“I agree.” Hunk’s chest swelled with pride and he clicked his tongue. “Did you guys hear my last high note? It was absolutely perfect.”

Shiro nodded, laughing. “We all heard it, Hunk. You’re the lead singer so it’s impossible not to.”

Lance watched as his ex-crush, Allura, walked up to the group, tapping Shiro on the shoulder. “Shiro, I’m going to go talk to the costume designer. Don’t forget to come!” He nodded, and Allura beamed at Lance and Hunk. “Guys, that was absolutely amazing! For a first performance, I wasn’t as nervous as I thought I would be.”

Hunk’s eyes widened. “Why would you be nervous? You’re incredible!”

She flushed. “Thank you Hunk.” She grinned at Lance. “Good job Lance! All eyes were on you the instant you walked onto the stage!”

Lance shrugged, cheeks pink. “I try.”

She squeezed Shiro’s shoulder, an affectionate smile on her face. “You did well too Shiro. I’ll see you later.” She vanished. Lance watched Shiro’s eyes follower her until she moved out of sight and he fought down a chuckle.

When Shiro turned back to Hunk and Lance, a light appeared in his eyes as if he had just remembered something. “By the way, do you guys remember how I wanted to invite my brother?” 

“Yeah,” Lance said, snorting. “You said he hates performances.”

“Well, I finally convinced him to come. You guys should meet him!”

Lance didn’t really want to, but Shiro was so hopeful it was impossible to resist. “Your good looks and puppy dog eyes will be the death of me, Shiro." 

After they had changed into normal clothes and let the crowd rush out, Shiro led the way and Hunk comfortably kept his arm on Lance’s shoulders. Lance didn’t particularly mind though; Hunk always made him feel peaceful.

Shiro waved his hand when they left the theater, calling, “Keith! Pidge! Over here!”

A boy and a girl – who Lance assumed to be Keith and Pidge – strolled up to Shiro, who enveloped them in what Lance recognized as his overly excited bone-crushing hug. 

When Shiro pulled back, Lance recognized them from the front row. He cocked a brow. “For someone who hates shows, I’m surprised you sat in the front row.”

Keith frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lance shrugged. “I _mean_ , if you really hated shows why would you sit in the front? Don’t you know that’s who the stage interacts with the most?”

Shiro shot Lance a warning look. “Lance.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Sorry Shiro.” He forced a smile onto his face, which may have appeared more devilishly – key word, _devil_ – handsome than welcome and cheerful, and said, “The name’s Lance.” Cue his signature wink. He couldn’t tell if he had any effect on the black-haired boy until he opened his mouth.

“I’m Keith Gay…I mean Kogane.” If Keith had any doubts about the universe hating him, Lance was sure they disappeared at that moment, especially since Keith made a face as if he wanted to rip out his own tongue. Lance raised a perfectly arched brow.

Hunk smiled, oblivious, and introduced himself politely, and Lance saw Keith’s shoulders slump with silent relief. “I’m Hunk, and it’s nice to meet you.”

Pidge’s eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Hunk before widening. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but were you in show? I don’t believe I saw you, and you don’t seem as if you would be very hard to miss.”

Hunk flushed, but before he could reply, Lance answered for him, pride brightening his words. “My best bud Hunk here is our lead singer. He’s the one who hits those awesome notes when I do my tricky spins.”

Pidge made a silent “o” shape with her mouth. She turned her gaze on Lance. “You, obviously, are the main protagonist. Can I ask how long you’ve been doing this?”

“I’m not exactly sure what you mean by ‘this,’ but I’ve been doing the show for almost five years now. But,” his voice dropped seductively, “If you want to know how long I’ve been practicing my flexibility, I can show you later-”

“ _Lance_.” Shiro’s one word was enough to shut him up.

Lance sighed. “Suit yourself.”

Pidge giggled behind her hand, clearing her throat. “I’d appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I’m that big of a fan of men in tights. I _have_ always hated Robin Hood.”

Hunk wheezed and laughed so hard he was bent over at the waist. Lance shot him a dirty glare and crossed his arms. “You’re supposed to be on my side,” he whined.

“Sorry,” deep breath, more laughter, “Lance.”

Lance noticed that someone in their group had managed to stay quiet the majority of the conversation. He fixed his eyes on Shiro’s brother. “So why _did_ you come, circus-hating pretty boy?”

_Pretty boy? What the hell?_

That was all Keith could think of until his mind completely blanked. “I-I, uh…”

Lance was amused, and Keith prayed to whoever was watching over him that he wouldn’t be able to see the blush that stained his cheeks.

“I make you that nervous?” Lance asked, and Keith couldn’t reply immediately; he was still trying to remember how English words worked. “You’re cute.”

If Keith had lost his memory earlier, at that he lost his oxygen and started coughing violently. Shiro sent Lance yet another look that he brushed off, and Keith struggled to breathe.

Talking wasn’t that hard, was it? It wasn’t as if he was talking to a _super sexy acrobat_ or anything.

“I, well, Shiro asked me to come, so I, so I guess I did?”

Lance smiled. “That’s great! I’m a bit bummed that you’re not a big fan of shows – Shiro told us – but I hope this one wasn’t too terrible.”

Keith didn’t bother trying to talk any more and just nodded, transfixed by the blue eyes that sparkled gently. Lance still had remnants of his makeup around his eyes and with every minute shift they reflected the light, snagging Keith’s attention. He was just thinking of how much he wished he were Lance’s makeup when he noticed they were all looking at him.

“H-huh?” he stammered, looking to Pidge for help.

“Hunk asked if you want to come to the next show too,” she whispered, and Keith mentally thanked her for saving him from another embarrassing moment.

“I think so, yeah,” he answered, and the three entertainers turned the full force of their perfect smiles on him. Shiro’s white teeth were enough, but did they really have to blind him all at once? We get it; they brush their teeth.

Shiro ruffled Keith’s hair playfully. “Since today was so successful, how about coffee on me tomorrow morning!”

Keith glanced at him, confused. “Coffee?”

Pidge shrugged. “The show isn’t for another few weeks so we might as well enjoy our time on the Vegas Strip while we’re here, right?”

Shiro agreed, and turned back to Keith. “I have to meet the other trapeze artists tomorrow morning so I’ll meet you there.” He turned to Lance. “Since I can’t pick them up, will you take them tomorrow? I can text you the address of their hotel.”

Keith noticed Lance’s face falling – he obviously hated doing things he didn’t have to – but Shiro gave him the Irresistible Look and Lance was soon nodding along. So that face worked on Lance too, huh?

“Fine,” he muttered. The corner of his lips twisted up and Keith fought the urge not to blush once again. “You know, they used to call me the Tailor, because of how I _thread the needle_.”

Keith tried – and failed – to comprehend what on earth he had just heard. Shiro shook his head. “Don’t try to understand him, because you never will.” He leaned down to whisper in Keith’s ear, “I’m not even completely sure if _he_ understands what he’s saying.”

Hunk tugged on the corner of Lance’s sweatshirt, waving with his other hand over his shoulder. “See you guys later!”

Shiro spared Lance a very quick hug. “I have to run back to ask the costume designer about a switch during the next show. See you!” Keith and Pidge got ready to follow Shiro.

Lance smiled. “See you tomorrow Shiro!”

They did not, in fact, see Shiro tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Keith and Pidge followed Shiro while he went into detail about the personalities of all his friends. Keith didn’t want to seem rude, but he could care less about what Shiro was saying.

Pidge paused, noticing something that had caught her eye. “Oh my gosh, Shiro, can I _please_.”

Shiro made a confused expression, but realization descended onto his features when he realized she was practically making heart eyes at the crew equipment. “As long as they say it’s okay for you to poke around, I suppose.”

Pidge didn’t say another word and darted away, throwing a “Thanks Dad!” over her shoulder.

Shiro rubbed his forehead with his hand, the one covered by a shoulder-high glove. Not even Keith knew what was hidden beneath that glove, and he could never find the courage to ask.

“I don’t know why she does that,” Shiro pouted, and Keith cocked his head to his side.

“Does what?”

“Calls me Dad! It’s so weird.”

“You act like a dad.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Do _not_.”

“Well, now you’re acting like a kid.”

Shiro frowned, and made a curious, yet teasing face. “At least I’m not the one with a crush.”

Keith glanced away, suddenly finding a great interest in the patterns of the floor. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh come on Keith! I’ve known you for how long?”

“Shut _up_ Shiro.”

Shiro sighed. “Stop thinking about him Keith. You barely even know him!” He nudged him playfully, teasing, “What’s wrong with you?”

 

 

 

Keith pinched the bridge of his nose. “God okay! I’ll stop.”

Blazing blue eyes found their way into his head, accompanied by an image of Lance doing the splits. That cannot be good for his health, because Keith thought his heart skipped about half the beats he needed to live.

“Are you still thinking about him?”

“Shiro shut the fuck up.”

“Language!”

Keith groaned. He just hasn’t seen to someone that pretty in a while. That had to be it. Lance was ridiculously pretty, so pretty it was kind of irritating, and everyone could see that. Keith inhaled and exhaled, pushing all thoughts of this new stranger out of his head. It was nothing; he was just spellbound by Lance’s routine. That was it, and he would reassure himself of this over coffee tomorrow.

 

* * *

 

Finally tomorrow came, and Shiro was currently practicing with his gorgeous new partner. So, Lance, dressed in a crop top decorated with the words “Too Rare to Live, Too Hot to Die,” and some jeans so torn he might as well have been wearing shorts, was accompanied by Hunk – who wore a simple t-shirt with the same words as Lance’s; it was a friendship thing – to go pick up Shiro’s brother and his friend.

Today, Lance looked as hot as he felt and he knew it. He wasn’t incredibly insecure about his looks, and he knew he had the appearance of a grunge alien prince, white hair and all. He had worn some of Shiro’s expensive eyeliner that he had stolen when the older man wasn’t paying attention, and even though his style choices would’ve made most do a double take, he somehow pulled it off.

He rolled up to the door of Keith and Pidge’s hotel and pushed his gold Thom Browne’s onto the top of his head to hold the untamable pieces of his hair in place. Lance’s style was outlandish, too expensive, and colorful; he fit right into the Vegas scenery even if he was a Miami baby.

He let out a low breath of air as Keith walked out the doors and for a brief moment he forgot that his best friend was in the back seat. “ _Dios mio_ ,” he murmured, and Hunk laughed.

“Shiro’s little brother _is_ kind of cute,” Hunk said, and Lance shook his head.

“Shiro’s little brother is fucking _hot_ , is what you mean,” he corrected, and watched with an interested apprehension as Keith and Pidge approached the car. He pointedly looked Keith head to toe with approval before flipping his glasses back onto his face.

Pidge glanced at Hunk, who was strapped into the backseat. “Are you in time out or something?”

Hunk shook his head. “I get car sick, so I prefer sitting back here.”

Keith went to join him but Pidge shoved him out the way, buckling in. “Come on Keith, what are you waiting for?” she asked sweetly, pointedly looking between him and Lance, and Keith made a mental note to kill her when they returned to the room. He reluctantly slid into the passenger seat, marveling for a moment at the cleanliness of the car.

“A convertible though?” he voiced aloud. “How did I not see this coming?”

Lance laughed, starting the engine. “She’s my baby. Besides, what can I say? I’m a sucker for flashy things.”

Keith made a face. “Obviously.” He purposefully looked at Lance’s outfit, though his eyes remained a bit too long on Lance’s exposed abdomen. He involuntarily tore his eyes away, not wanting to get caught doing such a cliché thing.

Lance seemed oblivious though, and maneuvered expertly through the cars on the road. “Don’t trash my style, Mr. I-haven’t-shopped-in-a-store-besides-Hot-Topic-since-seventh-grade.”

“Eighth grade,” Keith corrected. “And really man? Such a low blow.”

“Yeah whatever.” Lance waved his words away. “Suck it, Mullet Head.”

Keith found himself talking and laughing more easily with today’s Lance. It seems he was able to be himself when he wasn’t staring directly into sky-colored eyes.

Keith’s phone buzzed as Lance parked, and he saw that his brother had texted him.

 

 **Shiro** : hey Keith, had to help Allura this morning! Rain check?

 **Keith** : you’re fine, rain check sounds good lol

  

Keith sighed and looked at the other three. “Okay guys, Shiro needs a rain check so what should we do?”

Pidge and Hunk glanced at each other, exchanging matching grins. They probably had some idea in their head, and Keith shifted nervously. “Do you think I can go watch Shiro train?” She pulled out her phone with a mischievous expression. “I want blackmail.”

Lance laughed. “Pidge, I’m not sure if that’s something you should be saying out loud.”

She shrugged, fluffing the ends of her short orange hair and adjusting her wide-circled glasses. “I have needs too.”

Lance hesitated, but Hunk patted his shoulder. “I can take her, right Pidge?” Pidge nodded quickly.

Lance shrugged. “Keith and I will just drink coffee here and then meet up with you two around the practice gym later.”

Hunk and Pidge whispered to each other, giggling. Perhaps the two becoming friends was not a good thing. “Is it a date?” she teased.

Keith averted his gaze but Lance rolled his eyes. “No, it isn’t a date. I just want to see if Shiro and his little brother are alike, that’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not a date my ass.” Pidge nudged Hunk with her shoulder and they climbed out of the car. “Let’s go big guy. Do we need a cab?”

“No, we can just walk.” Hunk waved and Pidge darted ahead, skipping gleefully as Hunk strolled behind her.

Keith smiled to himself while he watched them before the tightening in his gut made him remember the crop top clad man he was now forced to be alone with. He strained to relax, reminding himself that Lance was just a pretty boy and talking to him would turn Keith off in a split second.

“Ready to go inside?” Lance’s sudden voice made Keith jump.

He nodded, following him in. He glanced at his companion, watching Lance take a deep breath.

With a lopsided grin, he told Keith, “I come here every morning before practice. Their coffee is phenomenal.”

“For some reason, I wouldn’t strike you as someone who says the word ‘phenomenal.’ No offense.”

Lance’s laughter sounded like wind chimes. “I never cease to amaze, huh?”

The waitress came before Keith could say something witty – he discovered that Lance had a way of stunning him with his looks and then irritating him with his personality.

When the cups were placed on the table, the waitress looked between them and giggled behind her hand, moving quickly away. It seemed to Keith that Lance didn’t notice, and he lazily swirled his spoon around the cup, wondering what to say.

Instead of starting a lame conversation, Keith took in his surroundings. Lance came here often? To Keith, Lance looked as if he would be more into colorful and wild places like clubs and casinos. Opposite to those scenes, this coffee shop was full of tans and dark browns, a soft and gentle theme. Lance stood out like a highlighter in his expensive and eccentric outfit, but Keith didn’t mind. In fact, Lance seemed to be the Vegas nightlife in a brown body, and Keith wouldn’t doubt that he partook in all sorts of late night activities.

Then again, Lance never ceased to amaze.

“Lance?” Keith asked, and Lance’s eyes locked onto his. In case his attractiveness wasn’t enough, when people spoke Lance kept steady eye contact, as if to reassure them that they held his unwavering attention and interest. It was both comforting and unnerving at the same time.

“Yeah what’s up?”

“Can you take me to a nightclub?”

Lance arched a brow, surprised at Keith’s request. “I don’t mind, and I’m sure the others would like to go too. Maybe Shiro will actually make it this time!” He chuckled. “Why do you want to go?”

Keith shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve never been to one.”

“You’ve never been to a club?” Lance’s voice was incredulous. “How?”

“I just never went, I guess. It didn’t seem to be that important to me.”

“How old are you? Were you too young?” Lance suddenly gaped. “Don’t tell me you’re still too young to drink?”

Keith glared at him. “I’m not a child, I’m 26. I just never wanted to go.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Huh?”

“What changed your mind?”

“Oh well, I,” Keith said, flustered. “I’m not sure.”

“Don’t tell me,” Lance murmured, leaning forward onto his elbows, fingers clasped as he rested his chin on the backs of his hands. “It’s not what I think it is, is it?”

Keith wrinkled his nose, puzzled. “What do you think it is?”

Lance’s lips turned upwards seductively, and his voice deepened. “You’re not trying to get me drunk, are you?”

Keith abruptly found great interest in his shirt, and could no longer stand to look at the one sitting across from him. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to blush or punch him square in the nose. He decided to do a nice medium.

With a red face he snapped, “God, you’re such an idiot, of course not! I just want to go since I’m in _Vegas_ for the first time.” He gritted his teeth and took a sip from his cup. “Weirdo.”

Lance gasped. “At least I’m not the one wearing booty shorts and a shirt two sizes too small.”

Keith curled his lip. “Don’t be jealous that I’m hotter than you today.” He crossed his arms, smug. “I know I look good.”

“You look like a fucking dessert,” he thought Lance said. Keith felt his the tips of his ears warm.

“Did you just call me a dessert?”

“I said pervert!”

“I’ll believe you this time. But take me to a nightclub.”

“ _Dios mio_ Keith, you have _got_ to stop calling it a nightclub. Just say ‘club.’ Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

“Are you calling me dumb? Did you just speak Spanish?”

“Yes and yes.” Lance stretched his arms above his head and Keith took a moment to drag his eyes from the waistband of his pants and up his abs. He thought he saw quite a few interested glances from strangers sitting near them as well.

Lance leaned back in the chair, winking. “Like what you see?”

Keith snorted, rolling his eyes and pretending like he was totally not checking him out for the umpteenth time today. “What view? All I see is a coffee shop.”

Lance pouted as he finished the last of his drink. “You hurt me Keith.” He stood, holding his sunglasses so he could run a hand through his hair. “Are you ready? I can promote the nightclub idea to the others when we get to the practice gym.”

“I thought you said calling it a nightclub was lame!”

“It’s only lame when _you_ say it, Keith. No offense.”

“How am I not supposed to take offense to that?”

“Figure it out.” Lance took their cups and threw them away, waving goodbye to the waiters and waitresses who practically swooned at his attention.

“God you’re such a flirt,” Keith huffed, and Lance smirked.

“Maybe I’m just in character. Besides,” he paused, casually snaking his arm around Keith’s waist, “None of them look as cute as you do in your shirt right now.”

Keith swore he saw a woman start to fan herself as she watched them. Lance shook his head, vainly pleased, and removed his arm. Keith glanced down at what he was wearing and wondered how in the world it was considered ‘cute’ on Lance’s list of cute things.

He _had_ tried today, but he didn’t want to make it blatantly obvious, so he had settled on a tight black t-shirt that read: “Humans Aren’t Real” with an alien face in the middle and a random pair of black shorts that he had worn on the flight to Vegas.

“It’s different,” Lance said simply. “I like it.”

Keith exhaled a long, slow, stream of air and struggled. He was just infatuated with Lance’s looks; and just like the interest in a pretty picture fades after a few days, Keith’s minor attraction would ebb as well. This was also Shiro’s flirty acrobat friend, who was certainly out of his league and had no interest in him whatsoever other than the fact that he was Shiro’s brother.

Even if he knew it and acknowledged it, that didn’t mean it sat very well in his stomach.

 

* * *

 

Lance watched his new friend from his peripheral vision. Keith squinted in the direct sunlight, and blinked when he noticed Lance staring at him.

“Like what you see?” he teased, repeating Lance’s words from earlier.

Lance closed his eyes for a heartbeat. “Honestly, Keith? I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“So I finally figured out how to get the creature to stop talking.” Keith stood with his hands on his hips. “I must be special. But what is it?”

Lance had an impish air about him and pushed his glasses further up on his nose. “Come on Hot Topic. I’m buying you a pair of sunglasses.”

From the original once-over of Shiro’s brother, you would never have assumed that he was a shopping maniac. He was basically a fifteen-year-old girl who couldn’t decide what she looked the best in. Keith – to Lance’s extreme amusement – wore fingerless gloves and even painted his nails black. It was endearing, and Lance peeked at his own periwinkle painted nails.

“Keith, I’m just buying you sunglasses not-”

Keith hushed him. “I’m busy.”

Tickled, Lance sat back and watched Keith try on clothes. As comical as it was though, Lance’s fashion senses were slowly becoming more and more offended as Keith continued modeling.

“Keith, stop.”

Keith froze as he picked up _yet another_ black shirt that mirrored the one he had tried on three minutes ago.

“Huh? Lance what’s wrong?”

Lance held a hand up to his face, pretending to be deeply wounded. “I cannot stand by and watch this go on any longer. It would be an insult to my fashion.” Keith watched him like a hawk as Lance gently removed the shirt from his hands and returned it to its rightful hanger. He pointed to the dressing room. “Wait in there. The clothes will come to you.”

Keith scowled but luckily did not put up a fight, doing as he said. Lance tapped a long index finger on his chin and examined the clothes in front of him. He pulled a couple off their hangers and made his way over to where Keith was waiting impatiently.

Lance tossed the clothes over the top of the door and Keith squeaked inside. _He must not have been paying attention,_ Lance figured.

“Try them on and then come show me,” Lance called, and he heard Keith huff, muttering curses through the door.

Keith stepped out, hands on his hips. “This was the best outfit I could do with what you gave me.” He acted like he hated the outfit, but Lance could tell from his tinted cheeks that he was faking it.

He had tossed an assortment of clothes to Keith, and let him pick his favorite arrangement. Lance wasn’t sure whether or not he was okay with wearing crop tops so he tried to pick shirts that weren’t too short but still showed off his body well.

Keith had decided on a tight, sleeveless red top that stopped just below his navel with a pair of black cargo pants. He nervously tugged on the bottom of the shirt, but Lance stopped him, clasping his gloved hands in his own.

“I love it!” he exclaimed, “You still look like you only shop in Hot Topic, but now you have a dash of Forever 21.”

“Where is the Forever 21?” Keith asked dubiously.

“The shirt of course.”

Keith glowered, but didn’t immediately take it off. He opened his mouth, hesitating before saying with a smirk, “You call me Hot Topic, yet you have your nails painted blue.”

“It’s a fashion statement!” Lance cried defensively. He released Keith, cradling his own hands to his chest as if the boy had burned him. “I’m definitely _not_ a Hot Topic type of guy.”

“Yeah, probably Victoria's Secret,” Keith said with a snort.

Lance shrugged. “I plead the fifth.”

He could have sworn that if Keith’s mouth had opened any wider it would have scraped the floor. “But what do you…” he trailed off, eyes blinking. “Actually, I’m not going to ask." 

Keith whirled around quickly, basically sprinting back to the dressing room. “Where do you think you’re going?” Lance demanded. 

Keith froze sheepishly. “I’m taking the clothes off to put them back.”

“No, you’re taking the clothes off to buy them.” Lance grabbed a nice pair of black shades he thought would look good on Keith. “I’ll meet you at the cash register, Mullet.”

He rubbed his arms. “Lance, I don’t have any money, I left it all with Pidge. I can’t afford all of, all of _this_.” He gestured dramatically to the outfit he wore.

Lance pursed his lips. “But I can. Take it off and meet me at the cash register.”

He looked like he wanted to argue again, but Lance moved away before he could. He noticed Keith feel the soft material of the shirt with a small smile, and Lance grinned. He didn’t have a lot of money either – most of it went to rent, groceries, and the occasional gift to himself – but wow, was spending it on him _so_ _worth it._

 

* * *

 

Keith wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when the arrived at the practice gym, but it surely was not Lance stripping as soon as he walked in the door, only to get yelled at by Allura for indecency. Was Allura as new as everyone said she was? She sure seemed to take on the role of “Mother” easily; perhaps it was because of her partnership with Shiro.

He deposited himself on the mat, next to the mirror in the corner so he could stay out of everyone’s way, and watched intently. There were a lot of objects Keith assumed were for aerial things, and he waited for Lance to arrive while he studied everyone practicing on the floor. He spotted Hunk and Pidge sitting in another corner; it looked as if Hunk were singing and Pidge was listening closely. He reverted his gaze back to Allura and Shiro. They were so in sync, moving with such perfect synergy you got pulled in even if you tried to resist.

“Lance! Hey buddy, there you are!” Hunk cried, and stood to give his friend a tight hug.

Keith’s heart rose to his mouth but got stuck in his throat on its way. Lance stood, a hand on his hip, dressed in a skin-tight bodysuit. Admittedly, instead of the bodysuit, Lance could have worn something infinitely more inappropriate, but for some reason having Lance’s curves and dips highlighted so well in white made Keith want to grab a water bottle and chug.

Lance saw him and raised a hand in a small wave, jogging over to where he sat. Keith scrambled to his feet. Lance had a cocky grin on his face, and Keith sensed a challenge.

“Okay, Mullet, I need you to do something for me.”

“Oh yeah?” Keith crossed his arms thoughtfully. “And what’s that, Mr. Tights?”

Lance mimicked Keith’s position, grinning. “Help me stretch.”

That’s all? “I don’t see why not. But if you call me Mullet one more time, I’m breaking your arm.”

 Lance clutched his chest with fake offense. “You wouldn’t dare.” He flexed his toned biceps – stupid, stupid, biceps, Keith cursed – and kissed each arm. “These are my money makers man!”

Needless to say, Lance whined enough for Keith to tell him to shut it because he’d help him. Two things ran through Keith’s head as he pushed on Lance’s back while he did the splits:

First, why doesn’t this guy ever shut up? 

Second, how flexible is he? 

Lance was telling him all about his friends in the show. “I became friends with Hunk a long time ago. He’s such a sweetheart, I don’t know what I could do without him, you know? He let’s me paint his nails and he cooks for me and-”

“Are you two married or something?” 

“Keith, your sass is not appreciated at the moment.”

“Yeah? Well neither is your voice.”

“Yeah?” Lance’s voice rose by what sounded like a whole octave. “Well, your, uh, your mullet is not needed either!”

“Thanks,” he laughed dryly.

Lance pouted, and turned around, extending his left leg and pulling his bent right knee to his chest. “Push onto my calf,” he instructed, and Keith complied.

Because the boy was so flexible, Keith found himself awkwardly leaning over Lance, unable to look anywhere but directly at him. Lance didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest, holding Keith’s gaze with hooded eyes. “Tell me about someone else,” Keith requested. He was willing to listen to Lance talk again; he was willing to listen to anything to break this tension.

Lance pursed his lips. “I thought my voice wasn’t needed.”

“Yeah well neither is my sass or my mullet and they’re both still here, so.”

Lance switched legs and hummed. “I met Allura a few years before I joined the show.”

“You knew Allura before she came to the circus?” Keith was genuinely surprised.

Lance seemed pleased that Keith was finally joining in on the conversation instead of making him speak into air. “Yeah I did,” he replied. With a small chuckle, he said, “I used to have a crush on her.”

Keith felt a strange stab in his chest. Was he jealous? How? He’d only known this boy for a couple of days, and he only liked his face – or so he told himself – so it made no sense why he was envious of a gorgeous girl.

Wait a second, was this boy _straight_?

Lance stretched his arms, rolling over onto his stomach. He pulled his foot over his back in a scorpion-type pose. “Push my leg as far over my head as it can go.”

Keith complied. “Do you still like her?” The words sounded strained and painful, as though he had forced them out of his mouth; which he most definitely did.

Lance shook his head. “Nope. I’ve been over her for a while now. I’m actually the one who introduced her to the show,” he boasted. “She contacted me and asked if the show had any openings. Luckily our other main trapeze artist, Shiro’s previous partner, quit right before she asked. It was fate.”

“You think she likes Shiro?” Keith asked. He hoped Lance wasn’t sensitive to the topic, but he wanted to confirm that he was actually as over her as he had said.

“Yeah man! It’s so obvious in the way they interact.” He switched legs, gesturing to them. “Look at them! It hurts just watching them pine after each other without making a move.”

Keith didn’t bother looking at them. His eyes were locked on Lance’s face, which was currently open and vulnerable as he observed his friends. There was no trace of regret or pain in his expression, and Keith released a silent breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“I guess you weren’t her type,” he joked.

Lance rolled back over so that Keith stood over him, and he smiled upwards. “Meh, it’s okay. After she rejected me for the zillionth time, I realized there were other boys and girls in the sea, you know?” He sat up, drawing his legs to his chest, still under Keith, and rested his head on his knees. Fortunately he didn’t notice how red Keith was because of their position. “I don’t mind rejection,” he said with a crinkle in the corners of his eyes.

Keith was too preoccupied by the fact that Lance was _in between his legs_ to realize Lance pretty much just said he was bisexual.

Nope, all Keith noticed was that those blue eyes were trained on his now, and he had forgotten how to breathe, once again.

“Right, the sea,” he said lamely, having completely missed Lance’s last sentence. _Smooth going Keith. You’re totally going to steal his heart with that._

Lance held out his hand, and Keith stared at him, confused. “You gonna help me up, or am I going to have to sit on my ass all practice?" 

Keith fidgeted, grabbing his hand to lift him up. “Sorry.”

Lance clapped his shoulder. “I’m just teasing. Besides, I can’t stay too mad at you since you actually let me buy you clothes.” 

Keith watched as he walked towards the aerial ring that someone had brought down with Lance’s arrival. Lance easily hefted himself up, moving through and around the ring as if he weighed nothing.

“Are you the only one who uses the silk and the ring?” Keith asked.

Lance glanced up, surprised. Keith assumed he didn’t think he would ask any questions. “Seems like you know your aerial stuff,” he said, obviously impressed. “But no, all of our aerial performers know how to use the silk and the ring. However, I’m the best.” 

Keith arched a brow. “Are you sure?”

Lance clicked his tongue. “Of course I’m sure! I make people,” he flipped upside down, doing the splits with a wink, “ _Unbalanced_.”

“Oh my god, that had to be the most awkward thing I have ever witnessed,” Keith groaned.

Lance righted himself, and with a look of intense concentration, he began doing a routine. This routine seemed gentler, more sensual than the one Keith had watched yesterday, and he soon felt the warmth trickle from his neck to his face. A hand rested on his shoulder and Keith nearly jumped out of his skin.

“God, Shiro, you can’t just sneak up on someone like that!” Keith hissed, trying to calm his nerves.

Shiro chuckled. “You shouldn’t stare at him so closely if you don’t want someone to sneak up on you, Keith.”

“I wasn’t staring!” he retorted, but his words were too fast and too rushed that anyone could have known he was lying. 

“Keith, you were drooling. I don’t think you can stare any harder than that.”

 He blinked. “I wasn’t drooling.” He rubbed his chin to make sure.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Pidge said as she came to join the two in watching Lance.

Shiro sighed. “His personality needs some work, but he sure is too graceful to be human, huh?”

 Keith’s shoulders slumped. “You got that right.”

 “What’s wrong Keith?” Pidge goaded. “You finally met someone hotter than you? Aw, Keith has a _crush_.”

 “Shut up Pidge, it’s not a crush.” His nose twitched. “I just like his face.”

 “Right,” she drawled. “’Cause that’s not a crush _at all_.”

 “Shut up.”

“What’s really the matter? You look like he dumped you and you two haven’t even gone out yet.”

Shiro ruffled his hair. “She has a point. What’s got you so upset?” he asked.

“He’s out of my league,” he mumbled.

Before either could respond, Lance was bounding over to them, out of breath. “Any of you guys have water?” he panted, and Pidge nodded, rushing to get him something to drink. When she returned he gulped it down, smiling contentedly. “By the way, Keith and I were wondering if you guys would want to go to a club tonight? I think it’s a good idea, especially since we just performed our first show of the summer.”

Shiro glanced to the side – obviously looking at Allura for a moment – before saying, “You know, I might be able to! Let me ask Allura if she wants to come too.”

“Alright man.” Lance turned to Pidge. “What about you? Are you in?”

She rolled her eyes. “As if I’d give up the chance to see Keith drunk. He’s such a lightweight.”

The aforementioned gaped. “I am not!”

The dangerous glint in Lance’s eyes that Keith began to associate with only him appeared, twinkling. “Oh _really_? Want to test that with a drinking contest?” He wiped some of his sweat from his forehead. “Unless you’re scared,” he baited.

Keith was a competitive person. No matter who challenged him or no matter what the challenge was, he found himself agreeing and throwing himself into whatever it was headfirst. Now, a small part of his brain was saying “Hey Keith, pal, this is not a good idea in the slightest.” Another part of him was saying that he wanted to impress Lance, but he fought those thoughts away.

But the biggest part of him? It was telling him to kick Lance’s ass so far back into space he’d be able to see every galaxy at once.

 

So that’s why, a few hours later, he found himself standing in front of the mirror, pacing back and forth as he decided how to dress for the nightclub. He didn’t even understand why he was so stressed. It wasn’t a date and there were going to be other people there. He was even going to be joining in on a drinking contest!

He decided to save Lance’s Outfit – that’s the nickname he gave the clothes Lance bought for him – for a special occasion, and settled on his traditional fingerless gloves, a baggy white shirt with torn black jeans and black and white converse. He figured if he spilled something on his shirt he could bleach it clean. Even if he couldn’t, it was an old shirt that should have been thrown out a year ago, anyways.

For his previous birthday, Shiro had bought Keith the same expensive eyeliner he wore for his shows, and Keith dallied for a moment, deciding whether or not it was a bit too much. He sighed, saying screw it, and applying a thin line, just to make his eyes pop a little more. He nibbled on his bottom lip, trying to figure out how his hair should look. He wanted to piss Lance off, so with a small grin he pulled his hair back into a messy ponytail. He hoped Lance would be unable to joke about his mullet if his hair was up and away.

Looking at his reflection one last time to be reassured that he looked okay, Keith took a deep breath and stepped outside of the hotel. Pidge had gone to see who Hunk’s crush was – a pretty waitress named Shay who walked at the coffee shop the group frequented to often – which meant Keith had to ride in the car with Lance, alone.

He spotted Lance’s car a little ways away and held his breath as he pulled up to the curb. Soft Spanish music was playing through the speakers, and Keith swore he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. 

It should be a crime to look that good.        

Lance had changed into yet another crop top, this one tight and pale orange with the words “Bite Me” written in red inside a shark’s open mouth. His shorts were short enough to be scandalous, his long legs shaved and shiny, and he wore colorful bangles up to the middle of his forearm. His hair stuck up at odd angles, but instead of looking dirty and unkempt it gave him an adorable bedhead look. Keith knew right then that he would not be able to make it through the entire night sober.

His mouth was dry. It was too much to take in at once. Even if he did _not_ have a crush on Lance, he did like his appearance, and _wow_ , was there a lot to like about his appearance tonight. There was so much skin everywhere, and if Keith squinted he could swear that Lance had the smallest bit of gold eye shadow on his eyelids, which served to make his eyes bolder. Keith took an unsteady breath. This was going to be hard.

Lance had been humming along to what Keith assumed was Shakira, when he turned and caught Keith staring. Unfortunately, at this point Keith was too dazed to look away and Lance grinned.

“Still liking what you see?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Lance Inspiration Routine](https://youtu.be/By-A7AN4jEA)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Shiro and Allura Routine Inspiration](https://youtu.be/wpaRXKNGJqY)
> 
> [Lance on the Aerial Ring](https://youtu.be/4qWvTGr3U8k)


	2. The Nightclub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You should go out there,” Shiro suggested. “They’re waiting for you.”
> 
> He shook his head. “I’d rather watch from here than go out and dance.”
> 
> “Keith” Shiro warned. Oh god he’s using his dad voice again, Keith thought.
> 
> “Sometimes dancing will get you farther than sitting at the bar ever will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some alcoholic drinks that remind me of the characters:
> 
> Keith: Manhattan  
> Lance: Mojito, Blue Lagoon  
> Pidge: Caipirinha  
> Shiro: Kamikaze  
> Allura: Blue Hawaii  
> Hunk: Margarita 
> 
> [Don't drink if you're under 21, lol]

The pair arrived at the club a few minutes later, and Keith had to pause for a moment at how attractive his friend group was. Shiro wore one of his sleeveless tight black shirts, Hunk had on a shirt that read “The Incredible Hunk,” Allura wore a simple black dress but still looked perfect, and Pidge was rocking the “Enjoy the probing” shirt Keith had bought her for Christmas last year.

“Is this everyone?” Lance asked, and Allura nodded.

Shiro smiled. “Since we’re all here, why don’t we go on in?”

He led the way and walked right up to the door, completely ignoring the long lines. Pidge and Keith exchanged a confused glance, and watched as the bouncer took one look at Shiro and hugged him tightly.

“Shiro, my man! You know, my girl and her friends went to your show with the tickets you got them and she loved it! What can I do for you today?”

Pidge’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Shiro was on _hugging_ terms with a bouncer? Keith studied him curiously. What else did he not know about his brother?

“I’m going to need to see some ID’s from your friends, and then you can head on in,” he said, and they all complied. After receiving stamps, the group stepped into the club and Keith’s head was immediately filled with deafening noises and flashing lights. What a way to make someone sober feel like they were on drugs.

Lance came over and placed his hand on the small of Keith’s back, leading him over to the bar. The bartender was amazingly pretty, and the familiar smile she gave Lance implied that they were already well acquainted.

Lance brought his lips to his ear and Keith could feel his face heating. “This is Plax, and she’s awesome at mixing drinks!” He turned to her, grinning. “Give me the usual, sweetheart.”

She winked. “Coming right up darling.”

Lance’s hand was still making the poor boy uncomfortable, and Keith wasn’t even sure what he wanted to drink; he just knew it needed to be strong.

“Give me an Aunt Roberta cocktail,” he ordered, and Lance gaped at him.

“You’re really trying to get drunk, aren’t you? Don’t forget we have a drinking contest I’m going to win later.”

Keith rolled his eyes, laughing. “Consider it a head start. I know you’re an amateur even if you think you’re a pro.”

“I’ll have you know drinking is not the only thing I’m a pro at doing.” He smiled cheekily, and Plax giggled from behind the counter.

Lance sat beside him – Keith belatedly realized Lance had been standing – and put his chin in his hands. “So what’s your first impression, Keith?” he asked.

Keith blinked. “Of what?”

“Of the club of course!” Lance answered, and Plax placed a glowing blue drink in front of him. “Thanks Plax.”

“No problem!” she replied cheerily as she went to fix Keith’s drink.

He hummed, glancing around. “It’s loud, hot, and bright.”

Lance took a sip of his drink, smirking. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Keith turned to Hunk who was happily make his way over, draping his arm around Lance’s shoulders – a common form of affection between the two, Keith noted – and said, “Why don’t you guys come out and dance? You can get wasted at the end of night, when it’s time to go home.”

Lance huffed. “What’s the fun in that?” Even though he was complaining, he slurped down the rest of the alcoholic drink and gave Keith a mischievous smile. “Come dance with me, Keith!”

Keith shook his head rapidly. No one needed to know he had two left feet and terrible rhythm. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Aw, come on!” Lance pouted, but Keith was determined to stay right where he was.

“I can just watch,” he argued, shooing them away. “Go have fun!”

Hunk shrugged, pulling Lance. “We’ll be back,” he promised, and Lance agreed. They slipped into the crowd easily, and Keith was amazed – but not surprised – at how graceful Lance was on the dance floor. An upbeat, lyrical song played through the DJ’s speakers, and Lance quickly switched to a brighter dance, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he and Hunk simply jumped and laughed, not even bothering to try and dance anymore.

Keith took a sip of his drink and saw Shiro making his way over. They sat in silence for a moment, before Shiro asked, “Why aren’t you out there dancing with them?”

Keith shrugged, eyes on the two circus idiots dancing around Pidge, who was acting more annoyed than she actually was. From the glint in her eyes, you could tell she was enjoying herself. _I always knew she was a party animal,_ Keith thought.

“You should go out there,” Shiro suggested. “They’re waiting for you.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather watch from here than go out and dance.”

“Keith” Shiro warned. _Oh god he’s using his dad voice again_ , Keith thought.

“Sometimes dancing will get you farther than sitting at the bar ever will.”

For a moment, Keith wondered if Shiro was talking about more than just dancing, but he quickly finished the Kamikaze that he ordered and walked away, giving him a small wave as he weaved through the tightknit bodies to get to Allura. Sighing, Keith threw back the rest of the drink, wincing as it burned the back of his throat.

Keith had always hated dancing. Right now, he was content with just watching Lance, and was more than happy studying the little roll of his hips he did when a sensual song turned the atmosphere into something thicker, more intense.

Lance must’ve felt the eyes on him and glanced over, batting his lashes flirtatiously.

Keith choked on his own spit.

 

* * *

 

“Lance!” Hunk hollered over the din of the music.

Lance turned to him, tilting his head. “Huh? What’d you say?”

“Lance!” he repeated, yelling, “You should go ask Keith to come dance with you again!”

He frowned. “Why?”

“He’s staring at you!” Hunk replied, gesturing over to the boy, whose eyes were locked on Lance’s moving form.

Lance smirked, rolling his hips and batting his lashes. Keith started coughing, turning pink. He reverted his attention back to Hunk. “I don’t think he likes me like that, though.”

Hunk leveled him with a look that had to be beyond disbelief. “Are you serious? Why not?”

“I’m probably the first guy who has ever hit on him.” He shrugged. “No big deal.”

“Lance, sometimes I think you really are as dumb as you look.”

Lance clutched his chest, betrayed. “Hunk!”

“I’m not wrong.”

He poked out his bottom lip. “ _Fine_. I’ll go prove how wrong you are right now.”

Muttering about how Hunk seemed to be betraying him a lot lately, he tried to squeeze through the multitude of partygoers, but a strong, foreign hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He spun around, surprised.

A young man stood there, with a sharp face and soft eyes. “Hey.”

Lance cast a look at Keith, who paid him no attention, and turned back. “Yeah, what’s up?”

His eyes casually graced Lance from top to bottom, making sure Lance knew he was checking out his body. “The name’s Lotor, what’s yours, cutie?”

Lance blinked, taken aback. “Lance.”

“I was wondering if, maybe, you would want to dance with me?” he asked, and Lance was struck directly in the chest. _So cute!_

Instead of saying “Hell yes,” like he would have wanted to a few days ago, he said, “No can do man.” He tilted his head towards Keith, who was now observing the two with an unreadable expression, continuing, “I got someone waiting for me.”

Lotor shrugged, releasing Lance’s wrist. “No problem. But if you don’t mind me asking, why are you dancing out here while your boyfriend sits solo at the bar? If I were him, I would never let you stray too far.”

“I wonder why too,” he said under his breath, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for the concern though, but I think we’re good.”

“Suit yourself.”

Lance ran a hand through his white hair and continued to the bar, beating himself up for turning down what could have been a wonderful one night stand. He sighed, but when his eyes met Keith’s violet ones, his shoulders slumped, defeated. That’s why.

 

* * *

 

Keith hid behind his glass, tracking Lance’s every footstep.  Lance leaned forward and Keith leaned back, his spine pressed to the bar. Lance smiled, his nose centimeters from Keith’s, saying, “Don’t forget I’m tipsy, and if you keep peeking at me like that, I may not be able to guarantee your safety.”

Keith scowled. “Ever heard of personal space?”

“Nope,” Lance said joyfully, relaxing in the seat beside Keith.

“Why are you here?”

“Do you not want me to be?”

“You looked like you were having a fun time dancing, so…”

Lance shrugged. “It’s fine. Besides, I promised to have a drinking contest with you, plus,” he grinned, “No one out there looked as cute as you.”

Keith snorted, ignoring him. How could he just say stuff aloud like that?

“Fine. What do you want to drink?”

Lance whistled for Plax, who appeared in front of them with a smile. “How can I help you, Lance?”

“Mullet Boy and I are going to have a drinking contest. You want to help us with rum shots?”

She nodded. “Of course!” She filled multiple shot glasses for the pair, explaining, “Drink until you can’t drink any more, and don’t die! Good luck.”

“I’m going to destroy you,” Lance teased, obviously trying to get a rise out of Keith.

“Don’t count on it,” he replied abruptly. Lance beamed.

When Plax said go, the pair took shot after shot. Keith’s eyes started watering from the burn of the alcohol, but eventually he became too tipsy to care; the only thing in mind was his desire to beat Lance.

“Did I win yet?” Lance mumbled, and Keith laughed, the sound too obnoxious in his own ears.

“In your dreams, Circus Freak!”

“What was that, Mullet Man?” Lance said, turning too sharply with a shot in his hand.

The rum spilled all over the front of Keith’s white shirt, and Lance was lucky Keith was under the influence or else he might have lost a couple of his perfect front teeth. Instead, Keith giggled, trying to stand.

“Where are you goin’?” Lance asked, and Keith blinked to get a better focus on his drinking partner.

“I have to clean this up!” he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Lance set down the shot glass and stood too. “Do you have an extra shirt?”

Keith shook his head. “Why would I?”

“So unprepared,” Lance reprimanded, bopping Keith’s noise and making him squeak with surprise. “Stay here.”

Keith saw Lance stumble out of the club, and waited, trying to sneak one of his shots. Plax slapped his hand. “Not on my watch, mister!” she admonished. “You can’t walk a straight line to save your life right now!”

Keith giggled. Since when did he giggle so much? “Good thing I’m not straight!” he snorted, laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the entire world.

Plax gave him a knowing look. “OH, so _now_ I see why you were willing to drink with Lance even though you didn’t want to dance with him.”

Keith narrowed his eyes, leaning forward with a stage whisper, “Can you tell?”

“ _I_ can tell,” she whispered back. “But Lance is really slow so he’ll never catch on until you tell him.”

“But he flirts with me all the time? I think?” Keith sounded a little hurt. If Lance didn’t know, what was he flirting with Keith for?

“Because you’re a cutie,” she said, poking his cheek.

“Besides,” Keith said defensively, pretending not to hear her, “I don’t have a crush on him. I just like his face. We’ve only known each other for about a day.”

“Uh huh.” She flipped her two long braids off of her shoulders. “Mhmm, whatever helps you sleep at night...speak of the devil!”

Lance appeared, handing a shirt over to him. “I always bring an extra, so why don’t you go change?”

Was it just Keith or did Lance sound way more sober than he did? It must’ve been that drink he had earlier, he cursed.

Keith took it gratefully and Lance held him by the arm, leading him to the bathroom. Keith stumbled inside; through the drunken haze he did not notice that the spare shirt Lance brought was a crop top.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance waited patiently at the bar, sucking on a lime Plax had handed him with a smile. She was a sweet girl, and once upon a time they had had feelings for each other. It wasn’t love, exactly, but Lance knew it could have grown into something more. Unfortunately, his new circus gig had gotten in the way and they had decided to stay friends. He didn’t really regret it though. Whenever he was having a tough time, he would always make room in his schedule to come here, spilling out his woes to her sympathetic ears.

“Your thoughts are loud,” she said, wiping her palms on the front of her uniform. “What is it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing yet. I’m trying to understand it myself.”

She leaned across the counter, tapping his chin with her index finger. “Until then, why don’t you _understand_ that there is an attractive boy coming this way, wearing _your_ shirt.”

Lance’s head whipped quickly to the side – well, as fast as he could while under the influence – and he felt his heart drop to his toes. Keith was shit-faced drunk, cheeks flushed, as he stumbled over to where Lance sat, half-falling into his arms.

“ _Madre de Dios_ ,” Lance murmured, and Plax wiggled her brows over Keith’s head, rushing to go take someone else’s drink order.

“You look like a prince,” Keith slurred, and Lance’s face burned, speechless.

He looked around for help and Plax wagged her finger at him. "Why don't you leave him here?" she suggested. "I'll take good care of him."  
  
If Lance didn't have multiple shots and strong Blue Lagoon wreaking havoc on his brain, he would have noticed the sneaky smile she wore or the way her gaze slid between the two as she shooed him away from the bar. Alas, all he knew was that Plax would take care of Keith, and there was a dance floor calling his name once again.  
  
In a foggy haze, he made his way out to the crowd, squinting for Hunk before giving up and dancing on his own. Smooth hands appeared on his waist and Lance barely registered the guy who had hit on him from earlier. He ignored him, swaying his hips gently to the beat and rocking his torso side to side. He felt Lotor trace his every movement with his fingers, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind on Lance's sides. He gently turned Lance around, pressing them chest to chest. Lance's breath caught, but something wasn't right. He wrinkled his forehead to concentrate. What was wrong?  
  
"Stop it." (It came out more as stahbbit). Keith wedged himself in between the two, creating an awkward, sweaty sandwich. He reached back blindly to clutch the front of Lance's shirt in a gloved hand. "This mine. This song? Ours."  
  
How could someone so wasted be so devastatingly cute?

Keith spun around then, completely ignoring Lotor’s presence now, and began dancing awkwardly. In no way was it professional dancing, but it was endearing nevertheless. _Besides_ , Lance was able to think coherently, _I like this song. I wouldn’t mind it being ours._ Dancing with his hips like his aunt had taught him, he spun with Keith - which was not a good idea drunk - and laughed until tears of joy were falling from his eyes. He didn’t have this much fun dancing in quite a while.  
  
Lotor had stopped to watch them for a moment and chuckled dryly, raising his arms in surrender, before turning to snag a different guy to dance with him. As of right now, Lance was all Keith’s.

Keith paused, his palm covering his mouth and bent down, making gagging noises. Lance’s eyes widened and he snatched Keith’s arm, running out of the club in time for Keith to stumble to the bushes and release his dinner. Squinting to see as best as he could in the dim light, Lance jumped when a heavy hand fell upon his shoulder. Was everyone determined to grab him tonight?

Shiro looked worriedly at Keith, whose face lit up with recognition when his eyes fell upon his brother. Waving, he howled, “Heya Shiro! How ya doin’?”

With a sigh that held a profuse amount of disappointment, Shiro turned to Lance. “I know you’re drunk too, so I guess I'll call a taxi for the both of you. Do you think you can make sure he doesn’t hurt himself?”

Lance saluted him, giggling. “Of course!”

Shiro looked at him with incredulity - why on earth would he not believe Lance and his salute? – but he shook his head and pulled out his phone anyway. He made sure Lance held his gaze and said seriously, “I’m not joking, Lance.”

Lance patted his shoulder, wrapping his arm around Keith’s waist to keep the boy upright. “I know! I promise I’ll take good care of him.”

Shiro ruffled Lance’s hair with a smile. “You’re a good kid, Lance.”

“I know!” he chirped in reply. Shiro waited until he saw the taxi drive up to the curb before going back inside where the others awaited his return.

Lance half-dragged, half-carried his charge into the backseat, sending Hunk a quick text, knowing that if the two vanished suddenly, Hunk would instantly be in a state of panic and would most likely cause a scene.

 

 **Lance:** I’m taking Keith home, so don’t worry about us!

 **Hunk:** Oh really?? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) use protection

 **Lance:** what?? god no he’s just shitfaced drunk

 **Hunk:** oh that’s all? Take care of him

 **Lance:** what did you think I meant?

 **Lance:** Hunk?

 **Lance:** Hunk?????????

**Lance: …**

**Lance:** Fucker. 

 

They soon arrived at Lance’s apartment, and he fumbled with the keys, kicking open the door with one swift motion. He muttered and cursed to himself in Spanish about the mess Hunk made when he was deciding what to wear last minute while shoving shirts and pants to the side to clear an empty pathway.

“How do I put up with him? _I’m_ supposed to be the messy one,” he complained, lugging the very drunk boy in behind him and clumsily depositing him on the couch.

As Keith flopped backwards, Lance couldn’t help but notice – in fact, he would have to have been blind _not_ to notice – Keith’s slim navel, which the crop top effortlessly revealed, and Lance swallowed hard. Now was _not_ the time to be checking out his coworker’s little brother. Rummaging around the room to clear some space so Keith didn’t trip and die as soon as he was sober, Lance found his eyes constantly wandering back to his new guest, neck burning when their gazes met as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

“Hey Lance?” Keith’s voice was deep, sluggish.

Lance rushed to his side, checking him over to make sure he wasn’t hurt. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m going to puke.”

“What? Now?”

“Yeah!” Keith shouted explosively, moving his arms around Lance’s neck. “Carry me.”

Lance’s arms were held out awkwardly, sudden unsure of what to do. “Why can’t you walk?” he spluttered, and Keith nuzzled his nose into the crook of Lance’s neck.

“Because you smell good.”

If Lance had a water bottle near him he would have guzzled it down all in one swig. He moved his arms, trying to hold Keith bridal style, but the boy fought back and wrapped his legs around Lance’s waist, clinging to him like a koala.

“A sexy koala,” Lance muttered, trying to keep his breath steady as he placed his hands on the back of Keith’s thighs, doing his best not to touch Keith in a way that would ruin him entirely.

Sprinting to the room while blessing his bicep strength, Lance placed Keith – who instantly tipped over, making Lance panic – beside the toilet. Lance reached out, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist, pulling him so that his head rested gently on the acrobat’s chest. Keith sighed.

“Are we bonding?” Keith murmured, and Lance choked on air.

“Are we what?”  
Before he could answer Keith lurched forward, emptying what contents remained in his stomach into the bowl. Lance massaged his back comfortingly, running a hand through his mullet.

When he was finished, Lance walked Keith back to the couch, leaving a small trashcan beside his head in case he found the need to regurgitate again in the middle of the night. As soon as Keith’s head rested on the armrest, he was fast asleep, snoring peacefully.

As he turned to leave, he paused, glancing back. Keith was completely stretched out, and Lance had a brief thought that he looked like a model posing for the camera. He was lean, and Lance could tell he took care of his health. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on the top of Keith’s head, basically sprinting from the room in case he awoke.

Lance gulped down an aspirin with coconut water and hopped in the shower, sighing as the warm water washed the night off of his skin. He didn’t get as drunk as he had wanted to, but he was glad at the same time because the thought of someone else taking care of Keith in his current state made him itch.

With his new guest swirling in his thoughts, Lance fell back onto his bed, closing his eyes as he felt himself drift off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Keith awoke to the smell of breakfast, which was odd because he lived with Pidge, who couldn’t cook to save her life. He shot straight up and instantly regretted it when he rolled over, puking into the trashcan strategically placed beside him, as if whoever put it there had known he would throw up as soon as he was awake. Next to that was a cup of orange juice and two aspirins, which he took gratefully. Groaning, he held one hand up to the side of his face and stood, wincing at the headache that pounded in his ears.

Taking a moment to look at his surroundings, he saw that he was in a decent sized apartment with a large poster of Shiro’s circus group on the wall. Following the scent of food, Keith hesitated, hiding behind the wall to peek around it. Soft Spanish music was playing from a small speaker, and Lance was flipping pancakes while humming along and dancing. Keith was entranced with the way he effortlessly moved, but couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at the fact that his competition didn’t appear hung over at all.

Lance whirled around suddenly, grinning when he spotted Keith. “Hey David Bowie! How’s your head?”

Keith scowled. “Terrible, and all of your shouting doesn’t help.” Nonetheless he sat at the bar, waiting for his plate. He hated to admit it but that food looked good. “How come you’re not hung over?”

“I took aspirin last night and drank some coconut water.” He nudged his head in the direction of the orange juice in Keith’s hand. “Make sure you finish that.”

“Yes Mom,” he teased, and his mouth watered when the food was placed in front of him.

Lance snickered. “But since we proved that I have a much higher alcohol tolerance than you, I believe I won?”

“Won what?” Keith scoffed. “If I lost it was because you cheated. I had more alcohol than you before we started!”

Lance shrugged. “Sounds like a personal problem. You didn’t have to drink all that alcohol.”

“Wha- Lance you’re insufferable!”

He winked. “I’m not as bad as your hangover though, am I?”

“Speaking of, you’re giving me a headache. Let’s call it a tie and do a rematch.”

He took a couple bites, and saw Lance agreed reluctantly, glancing over at the speaker. “Do you mind the music? I can turn it off.”  
Keith shook his head, patting the seat beside him. “It’s fine, even if I have no idea what they’re saying. Just sit.” Lance was hesitant to move, and Keith sighed. “Lance, you’re making me nervous.”

Cue Lance’s signature shit-eating grin. “Don’t I always make you nervous, though?”

“I feel like I’m going to puke, and not because of the alcohol.”

“Yeah, yeah, you know you love me,” he teased, sitting beside Keith and taking a few bites of bacon. Lance inquired casually, “So, what do you remember from last night?”

Keith knew it. He was over and done with. He frowned down at the scrambled eggs and wracked his brain for a single memory. Nothing. “Oh god,” he moaned. “What did I do?”

Lance laughed, rubbing Keith’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, you didn’t do anything! I was just wondering because you were pretty wasted.”

Keith buried his face in his hands anyway. “Did I vomit on you?”

“No, you’re fine, really,” he assured him, but Keith studied his face for signs of lying. Lance didn’t meet his eyes, but before he could call him out on it Lance had gotten up to put the dishes away and walked into his room.

“Lance? Where are you going?” Keith called after him.

“You can’t just wear the same clothes from yesterday! I’m getting you something else,” he replied, and Keith hid his face in his hands again.

If Lance was picking out his own clothes for Keith to wear...Keith shuddered as he imagined being forced to enter the public eye in a crop top. In _Lance’s_ crop top.

To his surprise, Lance returned with a normal length shirt and torn jeans. Keith arched a brow. “Arctic Monkeys? I didn’t picture you as the type!”  
Lance shrugged nonchalantly, tossing Keith the clothes. “It was a gift! The jeans may be a little long but I tried to find the shortest pair I had. We look to be around the same size otherwise.”

“An all black outfit? Lance, you’re my hero.” Keith pretended to swoon and Lance rolled his eyes with a smile.

“If I’m your hero, kiss me like I’m Spiderman,” he flirted.

Keith crossed his arms. “Then make me feel like Mary Jane.”

Lance gaped, mouth splitting into a beam. “ _Touché_.” He leaned heavily on the wall dramatically, feigning hurt. “You’re a mean one, Mister Grinch.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“So cold!”  
“As ice.” Keith moved his dishes to the sink, clothes draped over his left arm. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Pidge told Hunk that you have never been to an aquarium – which completely blew my mind – and he suggested we go to an aquarium today.”

Keith’s head snapped to attention. “Really? An aquarium?”

Lance nodded, worried. “Unless you don’t want to go then-”  
“No!” he cut him off. Clearing his throat, he uttered lowly, “I want to go.”

Lance was obviously pleased, laughing so brightly his face twinkled. “Great!” He rubbed his chin for a moment. “Oh yeah, and Hunk said he would bring a plus one? But he wouldn’t tell me who it was because he didn’t want me to go and embarrass them. Isn’t that sketchy?”

“You? Embarrass someone?” Keith scoffed. “Impossible!”

Lance’s eyes narrowed, but they lacked any malice. “Seems like post-drunk Keith has a lot of sass. What to do?”

Keith wagged his finger in Lance’s direction, moving around him. “You _can_ let me go change and stop distracting me!”

“Can I watch?”

“The fuck? No, of course not!” Keith’s face burned.  
Lance pouted. “Why not?”

“Not everyone is a pervert like you, Lance!”

“But I’m distracting?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You know, I distinctly recall you saying-”

Keith’s smirk was smug. “So do you also recall calling me a dessert?”

Lance froze, flabbergasted. “W-what the heck, _no_ , I called you a _pervert_.”

“Well, I also distinctly recall-”

Lance interrupted him. “Nope, don’t remember, didn’t happen.” He made a shooing motion with his hand, ushering Keith into the bathroom. “Hurry up and change so we can go meet the rest.”

Keith sang from behind the door, “Dessert!”  
“Keith don’t make me come in there-”

“You just want an excuse to come in here!”

Keith listened, laughing under his breath. Lance quipped, “You’re not wrong!”

How could he be so endearing and irritating at the same time?

 

* * *

 

Lance waited patiently, and when the door opened, he felt his heart stop. Lance could swear that Keith looked better in that shirt than Lance ever could, and he couldn’t figure out how to get his heart to stop fluttering. Something about seeing Keith in his clothes made his heart short circuit, and now that he was sober he could truly stop and appreciate the ethereal person that stood before him.

Oblivious, Keith walked right up to Lance - who was trying to school his features into something calm while his mind raced in a million different directions - and reached his arms up for Lance’s hair.

“What are you doing?” Lance’s voice came as little more than a whisper, but it seemed to echo in his ears.

Keith shrugged. “I found it in your bathroom and thought it was cute.” Lance reached a tentative hand to his hair and felt that Keith had put a clip in it. He smiled. Keith turned his head so Lance could see the butterfly clip holding back the hair that was too short to be tied in his ponytail. He looked adorable.

“Thanks Keith,” Lance breathed, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from the slope of Keith’s neck.

“Since you gave us matching jeans - why you have multiple pairs of the same pants, I can’t guess - I got us matching clips,” he said matter-of-factly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not!” Lance said cheerily. He moved his face closer to Keith’s, and he could have sworn he heard him suck in a breath. “Your hair…” he offered lamely, reaching up to tuck some of Keith’s hair behind his ear.

Perhaps he was still feeling some effects of the alcohol, or perhaps it was too hot in the room. Blue eyes met violet ones, and they stared at each other for what felt like infinity, neither brave enough to move.

“LANCE!”

Lance coughed, stepping back and fanning himself. Hunk popped up from around the corner, eyes sparkling. “Lance!”

Just as dramatically, Lance cried back, “Hunk!” And proceeded to run and jump, completely throwing himself into Hunk’s arms; and grateful for the interruption.

Not even being held in Hunk’s arms could calm his racing heart though, and he admitted, he was a little confused. What had come over him in that moment? He was never that careless, but then again, Keith didn’t move. What did that mean?

Shaking those thoughts away, he smiled up at his best friend, who was facing Keith. “Pidge is in the car,” he told Keith. “She said you two were too slow so I needed to come and rush you.”

Keith clapped his hands together awkwardly, clearing his throat. “We were just on our way out.”

Hunk tapped the clip in Lance’s hair curiously. “You rarely wear these, what changed?” He glanced between the two. “Oho…”

“Hunk, I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” Lance hissed, and Hunk nudged him with his shoulder.

“Did you use-”

“Hunk, I will embarrass you in front of your plus one if you finish that sentence.”

Hunk made a zipper motion with his fingers and pretended to swallow the key. “My lips are sealed.”

Lance walked between Hunk and Keith, and every time he felt himself brush against Keith his breath hitched.

When they entered the parking lot, Pidge was leaning out of the passenger window of Lance’s car, waving. Keith climbed into the backseat, but before Lance could join him she motioned for him to come over. Cupping her hand around her mouth, she whispered in his ear, “So, did you guys remember to use-”

“Pidge, not you too!” Lance groaned, then before she could react he snatched her glasses from her face.

She frowned, holding out her hands with a glare. “Glasses now.”

“Don’t talk about it anymore.”

“Deal.”

He handed her the glasses, exhaling. “And no, we didn’t use...that.”

Her eyes widened. “So you-”  
Lance’s face colored. “God, no! We didn’t do _anything_.”

“Nothing?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent positive.”

“Don’t take my glasses again.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“If it weren’t for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered you.”

“Got it.” Lance poked her cheek and left her spluttering while he climbed in next to Keith who watched him curiously.

“What was that about?” he asked, and Lance shook his head.

“Absolutely nothing.” He smiled. “Pidge and Hunk are just being annoying today.”

Keith crossed his arms. “Like you all the time?”

Closing his eyes, Lance’s shoulders slumped. “Everyone’s ganged up on me. I genuinely believed that you had my back, Keith.”

Keith shrugged. “You’re the superhero, remember?”

Lance pursed his lips. “And you’re my Mary Jane?”

“In your dreams!”

“In my very _good_ dreams.”

“Lance,” Keith said, holding Lance’s forearm. Lance blinked quickly. “You are a pervert.”

“Ugh, Keith, _please_.”

Keith stuck out his tongue and Lance observed him queerly as he stared out of the window as the group made their way to the aquarium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha, get it? “Queerly” because....queer....no? Okay.
> 
> I think I'm going to update every two weeks because my partner and I are about to be really busy and it'll be hectic writing chapters every week. Thanks for understanding, see you guys soon :)
> 
> Also, you guys should go follow my Tumblr and ask me questions and definitely go follow my beautiful, amazing, wonderful, partner's instagram
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/princekalon)
> 
>  
> 
> [Dami's Insta](https://www.instagram.com/spacedaddy_/)


	3. Aquarium Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy chapter with the Voltron crew, enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been such a terrible author when it's come to updates! I don't want to make excuses but I started college and I've been taking classes this summer. But I hope to update way more than before! Stick it out with me, please :)
> 
> My amazing editor's instagram:  
> [Dami's Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/spacedaddy__/)
> 
> My Tumblr! Come say hi!  
> [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/princekalon)

Keith couldn’t remember the last time he had been to an aquarium, and he would be lying if he said that he couldn't feel his excitement pooling at the bottom of his gut. He was nervous too; this aquarium was humongous and loomed overhead, and he could hear the faint voices of children and adults already chatting inside.

Or maybe he was nervous because he was trying not to notice the fact that Lance was wearing a sleeveless turtleneck. Who wears sleeveless turtlenecks? Do people still wear those? How is he pulling it off? 

As if Lance could read his mind, he glanced over at him with a cheeky grin. “Do you like my outfit?” he asked, crossing his arms, his lean muscles rippling with the sudden movement.

Keith glared, almost offended by Lance’s choice in apparel. “Why is it turtleneck and sleeveless?? What’s the point? If anything, I find it dumb. Are you trying to be hot? Are you trying to be cold??” 

Pidge snorted and Lance pursed his lips. “Fashion baby, fashion,” he answered, adding an over-the-top pose to his words.

Keith rolled his eyes as Lance walked through the doors, and they all followed behind. Lance made a beeline for the person working the counter, running a hand through his hair with a flirtatious smile on his face. Although Keith was certain he was somehow getting them discounts on their tickets, he couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous, before he shook his head, as though trying to shake those evil thoughts away. Why would he feel jealous? It wasn’t as if he liked Lance; he was just Shiro’s hot coworker with scandalous fashion tastes, and that was all.

Hunk nudged his shoulder with his, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially. “I would suggest not asking Lance about his choice in fashion. He’s a Showbiz Queen.”

Keith frowned, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Pidge danced around him, sticking her hands in her pockets and making a face. “It means he’s always extra as _fuck_.”

Shiro hushed her, chastising her about her language, and they proceeded to argue for the next couple of minutes. Keith had tuned them out, eyes on the aforementioned queen himself, watching him stroll back, an accomplished beam on his face.

“I managed to get a ten percent discount for all the tickets!” Lance announced, handing them out individually.

Allura, who looked stunning with her hair in a high bun, narrowed her eyes. “And should I ask how…?”

“Nope,” Lance quipped. “You’re too innocent dear.”

Heading inside, Keith could not contain the gasp that escaped his lips as he took in the scene that lay around him. They had entered a 360 degree glass tunnel that was full of colorful fish swimming aimlessly, with no destination or care.

“They’re pretty, right?” Shiro asked him softly, and Keith nodded, speechless.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never been to an aquarium before, Keith.” Hunk’s voice snapped him out of his reverie, and he shrugged.

“Never really thought about it, I guess.” He leaned towards the glass and flushed when his nose bumped it, praying no one saw him. From the giggle that morphed into a cough, Keith knew Lance had seen him and he sighed, accepting his humiliation. Luckily Lance didn’t say anything about it, so Keith put a finger up to the glass, tapping a red and blue guppy that swam away quickly.

“Even if you haven’t thought about it, Pidge should have taken responsibility,” Lance declared, and Keith looked over in time to see Pidge leap into the air and smack the back of Lance’s neck, who gaped and stuck his lips out into a pout.

Pidge grumbled. “Keith’s the one that never wants to leave the house!”

Way to throw a kid under the bus. Keith tried to salvage his pride by saying, “It’s not that I don’t want to leave the house, I just, you know, don't have anyone to spend time with? Y’know, with Shiro being away most of the time and all.” Great, now he probably sounds like a desperate loner.

Lance lazily draped his arm over Keith’s shoulders. “Seems like I’ll just have to fix that while you’re here, huh?” Lance’s face was way too close, so Keith just looked away and nodded, pretending to be more interested in the fish rather than the performer.

Moving through the aquarium, no one was more entranced than Keith, who had a different “awed” sound every time they saw something new. Shiro and Allura had begun a casual conversation, and had unconsciously moved ahead of the group; it was hard to say whether they were more into in the fish or each other. Hunk and Pidge were hanging back, Hunk hanging on to Pidge’s every word as she described the science behind bioluminescent fish and whether or not mermaids were real, leaving Keith and Lance together.

Keith wanted to say something and break their silence - which was not uncomfortable - but he was too taken in by the marine life, and Lance didn’t seem to mind being quiet for once. Occasionally, their shoulders would brush and Keith’s breath would hitch, but besides that he ignored Lance until he couldn’t take their silence any longer.

“Have you ever seen a dolphin?” Keith asked lamely, wanting to learn more about Lance and figuring a conversation about aquatic life was a good idea, considering their location.

Lance smiled warmly. “Yeah, a bunch actually. I go jet skiing with my siblings every so often, and when we get lucky, the dolphins will get curious and swim up close.”

“Jet skiing?” Keith’s eyes went round.

Lance tilted his head quizzically. “Yeah, we own a bunch of jet skis. You’ve never been on one before?” Keith shook his head. Lance paused thoughtfully. “Have you ever seen the ocean?”

“Nope,” Keith answered, popping the end of the word with his mouth. “This is the first time I’ve left Texas.”

Lance clutched his chest, acting pained. “This will not do. You haven’t lived until you smell the beach and get a mouthful of ocean water.”

“That sounds...really disgusting actually, how about I don’t drink the ocean water?” 

“No way! You must drink ocean water at some point in your life or else there’s no reason to swim.”

“Lance, that’s really gross.”

Lance puffed and blinked, moving close enough to Keith’s face that he felt that if he moved he would accidentally kiss him. His face instantly heated and he choked. Lance, not noticing, inquired, “I’ve been meaning to ask, but what color are your eyes?”

Blinking, Keith stepped back so he had room to breathe. Did Lance really not know the meaning of “personal space?” He sighed. “They’re grey or something.”

Lance’s voice was nearly inaudible and Keith had to strain to hear him say, “Huh, pretty.”

Inhaling sharply, Keith turned his attention back to the glass. They fell back into silence, until Hunk tapped Lance on the shoulder, whispering in his ear. Keith watched them curiously, and Lance glanced over his shoulder to look at him, snickering. What were they planning?

Hunk moved back next to Pidge, and Lance kept quiet about whatever it was Hunk had said to him. Keith nudged him with his elbow.

“What was that about?” he asked. Lance ignored him. “Lance,” he warned. 

Lance stuck out his tongue. “Wouldn’t _you_ like to know.” He moved nimbly as Keith tried to swat at his ear.

Fortunately for Lance, Keith noticed the rectangular container that hosted multiple jellyfish, and he went silent, grabbing Lance’s wrist and lurching forward to get a better look.

“Are those jellies?” Keith exclaimed, cheeks hurting from the width of his grin.

Lance frowned, leaning as far away as he could with Keith’s steel grip on him. “No, they’re saucers.”

Pretending not to hear Lance’s sarcasm, Keith wondered what they felt like. Would they be gross and slimy? Slipping off a glove and reaching forward, there was a small one right in his reach- 

“Please don’t!” Lance’s face was twisted in a grimace, and Keith paused, wondering why he looked like someone was stabbing him.  
  
“What?” Keith asked. After Lance didn’t say anything he asked again, irritated, “What is it Lance?”

“You just want to willingly...touch one? They’re monsters! You’ll die!”

“Oh don’t be dramatic Lance, would the aquarium let kids touch them if they were dangerous?”

“Still-”

One of the workers came over with a gentle smile on her face. “There’s no need to worry, as long as you avoid their tentacles. They’re moon jellies!” Lance’s face was unamused, so she continued, “Moon jellies are pretty much harmless, so even if you _are_ stung, the sting won’t be malignant!”

Keith released Lance’s wrist - he did not realize he was still holding it - and crossed his arms smugly. “See, they’re harmless!”

“And adorable!” Allura cooed, sticking her hand in with no hesitation.

Pidge and Shiro bent down next to her and turned their heads to watch the jellies float by. “They look so fragile, as if they’d fall apart at any second,” Pidge murmured.

The aquarium worker gave Lance another smile and offered to answer any more questions he may have before she left to supervise a child about to dip their finger in.

Lance didn’t budge, scowling. Keith rolled his eyes. “What’s your problem with jellyfish anyway? I thought your whole _thing_ was water and the ocean and stuff.”

His eyes narrowed, an accusatory gaze locked on the jellies as if they were teasing him. “I love the ocean, but I don’t like swimming in the ocean and being attacked! Jellyfish are _cowards_.”

Hunk leaned over to Keith, whispering, “When Lance and I were little, his family took us to Varadero Beach to visit his family. Long story short, Lance was having a blast until he stepped on, well, one of their cousins.” He gestured to the innocent jellyfish minding their business in the tank.

Keith smirked and wasted no time, grabbed Lance’s hand, who made a quiet high-pitched noise in response. Lance spluttered and, if he wasn’t imagining things, seemed as though his legs nearly gave out as Keith dipped their hands into the water.

“You can’t get over your fears if you don’t face them head on, right?” Keith grinned, and Lance glared daggers at him.  
  
“I’m not afraid, and that doesn’t mean you should touch your fears if - AH! It touched me!” As Lance cried out, Keith released his hand and Lance fell back onto the floor, staring at his hand with disgust. “Dios mio I’m going to die, Keith I’m going to die, estoy muerto Keith!” 

“Don’t be a drama queen Lance,” Keith said, and vaguely remembered that was who Lance was, so he added, “Don’t be a coward.”

Lance stuck out his bottom lip indignantly. “Who said I was afraid? I’m not afraid of some squishy demons!”

“Then touch one,” Keith dared, hand hovering above the surface of the water. “Let’s do it at the same time, and see who can hold their hand in the water the longest. If you’re not scared, that is.”

Lance clenched his jaw and stood, nose tilted in the air. “Fine. Loser buys food.”

Keith was broke, but he wasn’t planning on losing, either. “Deal.”

The rest of the group stepped back, watching the pair with amusement. At the same time, they dipped their hands in the water, tentatively avoiding the jellies’ tentacles. Keith saw Lance flinch as his hand brushed the surface of one, and then confusement flashed through his eyes. He watched as the terrified boy moved his hand so he was basically petting one, and Keith did the same.

The jellyfish were soft _and_ gentle, and a bit slippery. They were named jellyfish for a reason, because their gooeyness made them feel like gelatin under Keith’s palm.

“I can’t do this anymore, you win!” Lance pulled his arm out of the water and moved to wash his hands.

Humming his victory under his breath, a delighted Keith joined him. “Wasn’t as bad as you thought it was, huh?”

Lance huffed. “It was easier once I started thinking of them as circular Jellos.”

At that moment, a loud rumbling sound came from behind the pair, and everyone turned to stare wide-eyed at a blushing Hunk, who was rubbing the back of his head, embarrassed. Pidge snorted and covered her mouth with her hand to keep from bursting into laughter.

Allura giggled and clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention. “This would be a good time to take a break and get lunch, wouldn’t it? It says in the map that there’s a mini restaurant somewhere nearby, and then we can walk through the penguin and the shark exhibits, if everyone is alright with that?”

The group, all agreeing, meandered to the said restaurant and Keith found himself eating next to Pidge. He looked over at his best friend, who was lost in thought as she chewed. “Pidge?” She glanced up, and he smiled. “You seem like you’re having a lot of fun.”

She shrugged. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like to stay on the computer _all_ the time. Socializing is nice, every once in a while.” She chuckled, shifting so she could lean closer mischievously. “And you seem to be having a great time, especially with Shiro’s hot coworker.”

Keith choked on his coke and whipped his head over, eyes wide. “What do you...what do you mean? He’s not that hot, and I’m having fun with everyone?” The last sentence came out as more of a question than a statement, and Pidge sat back with an accomplished smirk.

“Are you sure? Because I seem to recall a very excited Keith Ko _gay_ ne-”

“Pidge! Shut. Up.” His face was hotter than the Vegas weather, and he chugged his soda until it cooled.

“I’m the best friend. I automatically know these things.”

“Ah, so you’re _not_ planning to replace me with Hunk as your number one?”

Pidge sighed, and in that moment she looked just like Shiro; it was like she had a strong desire to just lay down somewhere. “Keith. I understand feeling threatened by someone infinitely smarter than you-”

Keith’s offended, “Hey!” was accompanied by a light punch to the shoulder, but she continued,

“But that doesn’t mean I want to hunt for Mothman with any else but you, Acrobat Lover.”

“Pidge! Again, really?”

She moved swiftly to the other side of the table in order to avoid any more shoulder punches. “I’m small and aggressive, so yes, again Keith.”

After lunch, the group moved on to the penguin exhibit, where Pidge took off, whispering unintelligible words - most likely random facts about the birds - under her breath. Hunk came over and struck up a random conversation with Keith, who participated excitedly, but couldn’t help but be curiously distracted as he watched Lance sneak away.

What was that idiot doing now?

 

* * *

 

Lance accepted Hunk’s distraction and slipped away from the group as secretly as he could, chuckling. He was sure that no one saw him get away, since he was so light on his toes and all.

Making his way to one of the smaller gift shops located outside of the penguin exhibit, Lance stuck his hands in his pockets and muttered inaudibly to himself. Even though Keith never asked Lance to buy him anything, it was still going to be his indirect fault that Lance goes broke.

“Can’t believe I have to take care of this dork.” He sighed, fighting the smile that played at his lips. Not that he minded much. 

Lance was always a big fan of showering his friends with gifts and material things, which resulted in him always spending more money on others than himself. The only problem was that his friends would repeatedly ask him to stop and Hunk would even beg him to buy himself a watch or something. So as not to annoy them further, Lance dialed down on the purchases; but with this new addition, this _Keith_ addition, that meant that he had one more person that he could shower with appreciation, and _gifts_.

Looking around, he tried to spot something that would catch his eye and that screamed “Keith.” He had noticed that Keith’s super emo skull case was worn and practically in shambles, so he decided to look through the phone cases for something. He only had a limited amount time to make a purchase before the others would notice his sudden absence, so he had to be quick.

“Are you buying a gift for someone?” Lance glanced up at a young woman, who looked almost identical to the one that was supervising the jellies. Either they were the same person or identical twins.

Wait, there was no time! Lance nodded. “Yeah, I need a cute phone case. Any suggestions?”

She tapped her finger against her jaw, and grinned. “Is it for a girlfriend?”

Lance debated his answer and shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Well, this case has been pretty popular!” She held up a red phone case with an adorable purple hippo in the center. He could see that it _was_ popular; it was the last one on the rack, and he had overlooked it the first time he had gone through the cases. A hippo though? Internally, he gave in. Something as random as a hippo was sure to match well with Keith, and at least it wasn’t as pink and flowery as the rest of the options.

“I’ll take it.”

She was delighted with his choice, and Lance rapidly found his way back to the group, slipping next to Keith.

“Where’d you go?” he asked, and Lance shrugged, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up at odd angles.

“Bathroom.” His answer was curt, and although Keith studied him he didn’t ask anymore questions. Lance sighed with relief. He had never been a good liar.

Lance felt his hand brush against Keith’s as they approached another 360 degree fish hallway, and Keith pointed, telling him to look at the colors; though Lance’s gaze was not on the fish but instead on the boy next to him.

“Lance, what’s this fish called?” Keith pointed at a long, skinny blue fish with beady eyes. “It kinda looks like you.”

“I take no offense to that. That fish is sexy, and,” he read the name printed on the outside of the tank. “And it’s a lemon tetra.”

Lance pointed to a common molly and, laughing, turned, saying, “Keith, this emo fish is just like-”

But as the words were leaving his mouth Keith turned too, and they were so close that their noses brushed. Frozen in place, the two stared at each other until a small child squeezed between them to get a better look at the fish.

Clearing his throat, Lance whirled around, walking slowly until Keith reappeared at his side. Neck burning and refusing to make eye contact, Lance pressed the small plastic bag from the gift store into Keith’s hands before he chickened out.

“Here. Since your edgelord case is practically destroyed.” Without giving Keith a chance to reply, Lance rocked a bit on his feet and announced, “I’m, uh, running to the bathroom. I’ll meet you guys in the shark exhibit.” And then he vanished.

 

* * *

  

Lance’s heart was beating rapidly in his chest, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit shocked and betrayed by his own reaction. He never got this flustered, not even on stage. He couldn’t possibly be crushing on Shiro’s little brother, could he? Well, until he figured out why he was so threatened by Keith, it was probably best to dial back on close encounters like the one they just had.

Keith scowled. So Lance was going to drop a gift in his hands and then go to the bathroom, huh? He must be having bladder issues because according to him, he had just gotten back from there.

He was tempted to keep from looking in the bag until he got back to the hotel room, but he was unable to keep himself from peeking. Something red caught his eye, and he fought desperately against the touched smile that stretched his lips. 

How did Lance know that hippos were his favorite?

The phone case was the complete opposite to his previous black skull one, but he didn’t mind since it was such a Lance thing. Changing the cases so that no one in the group would notice, he mosied about, grinning to himself.

Well, he grinned until he realized that he didn’t have a present to offer in return.

Now Keith was not normally pressed to buy things in return for presents; he was a stereotypical suffering and extremely _broke_ college student. But there was something so sweet about the small gesture that he couldn’t help but feel as though he needed to do something as well. Lance had already bought him so much and he had given nothing back. If anything, he could not, in good conscious, accept another gift and be outdone yet again.

With a new sense of determination in his eye, he turned and interrupted Hunk and Pidge’s conversation. “Hunk,” Keith began. “You’re Lance’s best friend, right?”

Hunk smiled proudly, crossing his arms. “I mean, _yeah_ I am his closest friend.”

“What’s his favorite animal?”

“Huh?" 

“His, you know,” Keith flailed his arms around frantically as he tried and failed to express what he meant, continuing, “You know, his favorite animal?”

“Uh, dude, why do you want to know?”

Keith groaned. “He keeps buying me all this _stuff._ ”

Hunk paused, and then burst out laughing. “Oh, he passed it onto you, huh?”

“Passed what on to me?”

Hunk wiped an amused tear from his eye and grinned. “Lance has this thing where he feels the need to buy stuff for his friends whenever he goes somewhere. We had finally gotten him to stop but since you came along it probably started up his bad habit again. Maybe it’s because he has a ton of younger siblings, but he’s basically addicted to spoiling his friends.”

Keith rubbed his eyebrow. Although that was interesting information, it didn’t make him feel any better. If anything, it made him more panicked; someone who loved spreading love and barely got anything in return giving him gifts? He had to do something.

“Do you know his favorite animal, though?”

Hunk hummed thoughtfully and froze. “Oh my god.”

Pidge stared at him. “Hunk. Do you...not know your best friend’s favorite animal?”

Were his eyes shining? Hunk seemed distraught, and Pidge awkwardly tried to calm him down. If Keith wasn’t so stressed he would have helped them.

Lance was probably going to be in the bathroom longer than an average person to fix his hair, so Keith had a few extra minutes. He struggled to come up with an animal that screamed Lance. Something that preened, maybe? He knew Lance was into good skin care and extravagant outfits so perhaps...a flamingo?

“Lance’s favorite animal?” Allura’s voice cut through Keith’s thoughts. While he was distracted, Hunk had asked Allura, probably trying to find some solace in the fact that he wasn’t the only one that didn’t know. “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

Shiro perked up. “Keith, are you guys trying to figure out Lance’s favorite animal?”

Keith nodded. “Do you know?”

Shiro shrugged turning around. “Maybe...maybe not.”

“Shiro!” Keith stepped in front of him. “Tell me.”

“Can I enjoy teasing you?”

“Shiro,” he warned, “I’m on a time crunch.”

“Fine. I’ll give you a hint.” Shiro looked at him, and smirked. “Ooh haha.”

Keith closed his eyes and inhaled. _“Shiro what the fu-”_ Oh.

Dashing forward, Keith made his way as fast as he could without knocking anyone down through the shark exhibit. Sharks? Really? Sharks? Keith tried to picture Lance as the kind to coo - as he most likely would - at a shark, and failed miserably. He just couldn’t see it, but bought the biggest stuffed shark, with Shiro’s money, that he could in the shark gift store.

Accomplished, he held the bag to his chest and made his way back to see Lance looking around with stars in his eyes as the sharks moved above and below them. Lance didn’t notice Keith until they were right next to each other, and even still he didn’t peel his eyes away.

“Keith look! There’s a hammerhead!” He pressed his face against the glass like a child and Keith no longer had to wonder how Lance cooing at an apex predator sounded. “It’s so big and beautiful, aren’t you Mr. Hammer?”

Keith stifled a giggle behind his hand and decided watching Lance was infinitely better than watching any other form of wildlife.

“Huh? What’s in the bag?” Lance asked, finally turning to him. “Bought yourself a souvenir?”

How could he not know it was for him? He fidgeted under Lance’s glittering blue irises and for some reason recalled the first time he saw him, with the glitter and lights and music, like something out of a romantic novel. Of course, this made him tongue-tied and all he could do was nod dumbly. Lance wiggled his brows and went to say something until he was distracted by a shark that swam right past him.

“Oh so cool! Pidge, tell me about that one!” he demanded, assuming Pidge could pull random shark facts out of her butt.

(She could).

Keith slumped, following behind the two. How could he not figure out how to talk to him? It’s not as if Lance wasn’t a person; if anything he was just your normal, everyday chatterbox. Nothing too wild. Yeah his face was great, but it wasn’t the first or only time Keith had spoken with someone attractive.

He was defeated until they made it back to the hotel, and Shiro pulled him to the side, dropping keys into his palm.

“Since you haven’t had a chance to give Lance his gift yet, why don’t you take my bike and go out to the spot I told you about before?”

“You brought your bike?” Keith asked, incredulous. He knew Shiro was attached to his motorcycle, but to bring it all the way from Texas to Vegas...insane.

Both him and Shiro had a love for bikes, or machinery in general. It was a way for them to escape everything and clear their heads. Since Shiro was in Vegas for the majority of the summer due to the performances, he had told Keith about a spot outside of the city, where he would drive to relax and get away from the noise and bustle.

He gave Keith the instructions, leaving him to do the hard stuff. Breathing deeply, Keith gathered all of his courage and turned to Lance. “H-hey, do you want to…” He swallowed. “Go for a drive, or something?”

“If you’re driving,” Lance said, yawning and waving goodbye to Hunk and Pidge.

Keith sat on the bike and told Lance to wrap the plastic gift bag around his wrist, and attempted to ignore Lance’s arms slipping comfortably around his waist. Oblivious, Lance pressed his body closer to Keith’s back for a better hold, completely relaxed. Fastening his helmet, Keith cursed everything as he recalled Shiro’s instructions.

The sun was just beginning to set, and the first hints of golden hour were making themselves known over the horizon. Shiro’s directions took them to the top of a dusty hill that overlooked...desert. What a view.

Lance didn’t seem to mind though, because he hopped off and collapsed onto the ground, kicking up dust that made Keith sneeze. “So does the motorcycle come with free gloves or something?”

Keith let out a dry laugh and joined him. “What?”

“You know,” Lance said, sitting up to grab one of Keith’s hands. “You wear these gloves all the time, so I figured it came with the bike.”

Keith rolled his eyes, and fought back a groan as Lance whipped out his phone. “What are you doing Lance?”

Lance gestured to the setting sun. “Um, have you _seen_ this lighting? It’s a crime not to take advantage of it.”

“I don’t do selfies,” Keith stated, weakly fighting back as Lance wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Well I do, so smile Hot Topic!” Lance’s pearly whites seemed to take up half of the photo, but Keith found himself smiling softly anyway as Lance took too many pictures, letting himself be angled and moved to “catch the perfect light.”

When Lance tried to hand him the plastic bag still around his wrist, Keith stopped him, avoiding eye contact as his cheeks heated. “Keep it.”

“Aw, did you buy it for me?” Lance asked, instantly digging in the bag. _“Keith.”_

Keith panicked, worried that something was wrong with the present. “What is it? Is it too big? I thought you liked sharks?”

Lance nudged him, cocking a brow. “Keith, I love it.” He cradled it tenderly. “What should we name him? It’s up to you.”

Keith snorted, unable to help himself from saying, “How about Edgelord?”

Lance gaped at him. “How dare you name my precious child-”

“That’s what you called my phone case!”

“Yeah, that was a phone case, this is my baby shark. Respect her.”

“I thought it was a him?”

“I changed my mind. Next.”

“I stand by my decision. Edgelord.”

“Keith-”

“Lance.” Keith leaned forward and poked him in the center of his forehead. “You gave me naming rights.”

Lance grunted. “Fine. Can we shorten it to Edgy?”

“Deal.”

“She’ll never be as edgy as you though, Keith McMullet.”

Keith rolled his eyes and felt Lance shiver lightly by his side. Without a word, Keith took off his jacket, spreading it over the two of them.

“That’s what you get for wearing a sleeveless turtleneck at night, Lance. I told you it was stupid.”

“I didn’t know I would be outside at night, _Keith._ Besides, you know you like it.”

He would be lying if he said he didn’t like the slim-fitting material of the shirt so he kept his mouth shut.

“Hey Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you get me a stuffed animal?”

Keith bit down on his bottom lip. He wasn’t ready for that question, and it would be rude to say he got it just because Lance got him something, right?

“You like sharks, don’t you?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s why.” Keith paused. “And, you know, I didn’t get flowers or anything for your first performance. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“Oh.” Lance was silent for a few minutes before quietly adding, “I like this more than flowers.”

After some light banter the two settled into a pleasant silence as the sun went down, casting a dreamy red haze over the desert, and in spite of the chill that froze Keith’s bones, he still felt warm to the core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varadero Beach is in Cuba!
> 
> I took all of my aquarium experiences and combined them into one huge aquarium for this chapter lol.
> 
> Don't forget to leave Kudos! Love you all, drop a comment if you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. Leave the Thinking to Pidge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who knew not thinking would work?” Keith asked with a grin.
> 
> Lance smirked. “According to you, you did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long! This is one of the busiest times of the year for me, so whenever I have free time I tend to just crash. Forgive me?
> 
> Also, I started this fic before Adam was introduced, so I will not make Shiro/Allura canon. So you can look at their relationship as strictly as friends or more, it's up to your interpretation!

_Buzz. Buzz._ Lance groaned, and rolled over, desperately trying to ignore the constant buzzing of his phone. He already knew who it was, and he refused to answer.

_BUZZ._

“Oh, for the love of-” Lance gritted his teeth and stood. “I’m coming, I’m coming! Jeez.” 

He took a deep breath and answered the phone with a cheeriness he most certainly did not feel. “Hey Coran! What’s-” 

“Lance, where are you? A well-known fashion company is visiting today, and we must impress them!”

“You mean _I_ must impress them, Coran, with the new moves, right?” Lance’s voice was sharp. He hated being bitter to his choreographer, but those moves are close to impossible. “Coran, I haven’t done that sequence right since you taught it to me.” 

“I know my boy, but you must try.” Coran paused on the other end of the line, and his voice grew even softer. “Look, you don’t have to be perfect. It’ll be okay if you make a mistake. The company knows how hard you practice, and that’s all that matters.”

Lance sighed. “Thanks, Coran. I’ll do my best.” 

“That’s all I ask! You’ll do great!” Coran said, and the phone clicked, signaling the end of the call. 

Lance dressed in his standard work-out gear, and went outside to wave down a taxi. Being a main character was great, sometimes. Not only was he constantly surrounded by attention and fans, which he loved, he was also held to a certain expectation that he struggled to meet. His family, his brands, and even his team, always - without meaning to - held him to the standard that he was _the_ Lance McClain, and that meant that he had to do everything right with an award-winning smile on his face and some charming joke on his tongue. No one knew that in order to keep from letting them down, he would sneak back into the company’s practice mat so that he could practice until his muscles screamed from overuse.

The sequence Coran had taught him recently was the hardest one Lance had to learn yet, and no matter how hard he tried, it seemed as though he was never going to be able to learn. On top of that, the directors wanted him to perform those moves for the representatives of a popular fashion company. His performance today would decide whether or not they would sponsor Lance’s team. 

Lance sank back into the seat of the taxi, dejected. It was just too much pressure.

Since it was so early, the only people there were Coran and Allura, the latter waving to him before returning to her stretches.

Lance smiled as his choreographer approached him, ignoring the anxious butterflies that swarmed his stomach. “Hey Coran, mind helping me get a few stretches in before we start?”

Coran nodded eagerly, and Lance saw his shoulders sag slightly with relief. If Lance was happy, everything was going to be okay.

At least that’s what Lance thought he was thinking.

After he completed his stretches, two men and one woman in suits appeared at the front desk, and Coran gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before rushing over to greet them. Lance scoffed. This idea came solely from the mysteriously absent director, but he always put everything on Coran to handle. It would make everything better - and everyone happy - if Coran just replaced the current director. He was more than fit for the job.

Lance nibbled on his lip, and he tried his best to calm down. Coran said that all he had to do was try his best. Perhaps today would be the day he could finally get the sequence right all the way through.

After brief introductions, everyone cleared the mat to give Lance their full attention. Allura gave him an encouraging thumbs up, and he smiled at her shakily, before exhaling.

As the song began, Lance forced himself to relax and prepare for the beginning of the performance. Lance made it through the first part with no mistakes, and he relaxed slightly. Gripping the silks in his palms, he twisted and dropped as though he too, was part of the silk.

The silk raised and lowered, and once he was placed on the ground Lance found that it was becoming difficult to breathe. He faked a grin and wrapped the silk around his legs, and next thing he knew he was flying through the air, making his way through the sequence Coran had tried to drill into his muscles.

Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad, as long as he could get through -

As soon as the thought formed, Lance slipped.

He knew the second it happened, because it had happened so many times before in the exact same place. His palms slid down the silks, and Lance struggled to find a grip. Someone cried out - he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was Coran or himself - but he managed to wrap a leg securely around the silk, flipping upside down as his body jerked painfully. He let out a grunt as the person controlling the silks above lowered him gently to the ground.

“Lance? Oh my gosh, Lance are you alright?” Allura rushed to his side in an instant, hesitating to touch him in case he was seriously injured.

Lance tested out his limbs and nodded. “I’m okay, the only thing that’s hurt is my pride!” He attempted a joke, so that he could ease her worries.  
  
His calmness worked, and she sat back, relaxed. “Oh thank goodness, you had us terrified!”

Coran came and squatted next to him. “How are you doing, my boy? Are you injured?”

Lance shook his head and laughed without any joy. He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Coran, out of shame. “No, I’m good! I’m always good!”

Coran patted his back and stood, going over to talk to the people in suits. Lance knew he should go over and apologize for his mistake, but he was too embarrassed to do anything but stand and stare at his feet as Allura rubbed his arm comfortingly.

“Don’t feel bad Lance, we know that is a difficult move,” she whispered, but Lance couldn’t find anything to say in reply; it felt like it was taking all of his energy to not fall apart. How pathetic would that be?

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he muttered, turning around and walking as fast as he could without sprinting.

Hands clasping both sides of the sink, Lance stared at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help but feel guilty, and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to hold back his tears. He took a deep breath and splashed his face with cold water, sighing. 

“Just a small mistake Lance, you did your best,” he murmured. Gathering all of his courage, he exited, making his way over to the people in suits.

Coran looked surprised to see him, and the company representatives looked at him neutrally. The woman was the only one who seemed as though she _might_ be sympathetic, so Lance kept his focus on her. Rubbing the back of his neck he chuckled.

“Sorry, the choreography sweeps me off my feet sometimes.” Puns.

The woman smiled - finally - and reached out to shake his hand. “That’s quite alright, Lance. We understand that it was a hard routine, and you can expect an email from us in the next couple of days.”

Lance winced as she clasped his hand, and she blinked at him quizzically. He smiled. “Thank you for coming out to see me. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she quipped gently, and led the group out the door.

Lance glanced down at the fabric burn on his palms. He would have to wrap his hands before anyone else saw.

“Lance, if you want to go home-” 

Lance turned sharply, hiding his hands behind his back as he interrupted Coran with a shake of his head. “Of course not! I have to practice in order to get it perfect, right?”

Coran grinned, and nodded, going over to Shiro and the others, who had just entered the building. As soon as his back was turned, Lance’s shoulders sagged. This was going to be a long day.

First things first, he needed to hide his injuries. 

 

* * *

 

Shiro led the group into the gym, and indicated for Keith and Pidge to follow him over to a redhead. The new man was laughing at something Allura had said, and Keith took in his impressive moustache with something akin to confusion and awe. When Allura and her companion noticed the group, their conversation ceased. 

“Shiro! You’ve brought friends!” The man studied Keith’s face for a moment and chuckled with recognition. “Keith!”

Keith nodded, surprised. “That’s me, Keith, but how do you know my name?”

“Shiro talks about you all the time, my boy,” he replied, and before Keith could protest, the redhead swept him up in a tight hug. “I’m Coran, the choreographer!”

Keith blinked rapidly, not expecting the sudden contact. “It’s uh, it’s nice to meet you.”

Coran then turned his attention on Keith’s best friend, and smiled. “You must be Pidge then, yes?”

Pidge nodded and elbowed Keith with a snort. “Glad Shiro didn’t forget me.”

Keith watched, expecting a negative reaction from Pidge when Coran initiated a hug, but to his surprise she simply let it happen.

Shiro grinned. “Coran is glue that keeps our shows together.”

“He’s like magic,” Allura added affectionately. “This show would basically be nothing without him.”

Coran’s cheeks flushed, and he puffed out his chest at the compliments. “I wouldn’t say all that…” he trailed off and shrugged, “But I do suppose I am pretty good at my job.”

After introductions were over, Coran began discussing new choreography with Shiro and Allura. Pidge ran away to go search for Hunk. Keith, not part of the performers’ conversation, found his mind wandering. He glanced around and smiled warmly when he spotted Lance practicing on his silks. Making his way over, he tried to come up with something to say and decided to sit by the wall instead, watching everyone - but mostly Lance - spin and dip in the air as if gravity was not an existing concept to them.

Lance spotted him belatedly and made his way over after Shiro tossed him a water bottle. Sliding down the wall and plopping himself besides Keith, Lance grinned. “How goes it, Keith?”

Keith’s heart beat rapidly in his chest as he suddenly remembered their time on the hill. Should he pretend it never happened? Flirt a little or act casual? “Well I can definitely say I’m doing better than your grammar,” he finally replied. “You?”

A bead of sweat dripped down Lance’s face. How long had he been practicing before Keith’s group had arrived? The performer was out of breath, and sweating like crazy. Keith wanted to ask if he was overworking himself, but figured that Lance was the athlete here, not him, and most likely knew what to do to keep from crossing his limit.

“I am doing fantastic, thanks for asking.” Lance grabbed a random towel off the floor and wiped his head. “I need a shower though.”

Keith noticed the bandages wrapping his hands, and gently flipped Lance’s palms up, leaning closer to get a better look. “What happened?”

Lance frowned, momentary confusion flashing across his features before he let out a laugh. “Oh this? Sometimes we wrap our hands in order to avoid friction burns.” Makes sense. Lance doesn’t get hurt, Keith reassured himself.

“Heya Lance,” Pidge greeted cheerily, and Lance smiled, standing.

Instead of returning her greeting, Lance launched forward and Pidge let out a shriek, shifting as she frantically tried to escape his sweaty hug. “If you get sweat on me,” she warned, “You’ll die.”

Snorting, Lance shrugged and surrendered. “There are worse ways to go.” He winked at the two of them and tossed the towel onto the ground, jogging back to his silks.

Pidge seated herself next to Keith and pulled out her phone.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked, looking over her shoulder to peek at her screen.

“Shiro told me to look up places that everyone might want to go to for lunch. What about this?” She had pulled up the website of a pizza place not too far from the gym.

“Don’t they have a strict diet or something? They _are_ performers.” Keith eyed their toned bodies warily. “And they have to stay in shape.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. “As if two or three pizza slices are going to kill them. If they’re actually in shape they’ll be perfectly fine. Besides, I want pizza.”

Pizza did sound like a good idea, and he nudged her with his shoulder. “I’m in.”

Hunk jogged over to them, a wrinkle between his brows. “Hey guys, can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Pidge smirked. “What is it?”

“Does Lance seem kind of off to you?”

Keith shook his head. Lance seemed just as cheerful as always. “No, why?”

“Huh.” Hunk ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I’m just imagining things. Thanks!"

Hunk was heading into a back room so he could practice the words of the songs that would be featured in the next performance, which was in a few weeks. According to Pidge, he was practicing his pronunciations a ton since the words were in a foreign language. He said he didn’t want to butcher the words and ruin the musicality of the piece.

Allura, who had gotten there earlier than the rest of them, was taking a break and napping in the corner of the room, snoring softly. What time had she gotten there?

When their long practice was over and they were finally allowed to leave, the performers took taxis back to their rooms so that they could shower. Keith and Pidge parked themselves on the couch in Hunk and Lance’s shared room. Ever since Hunk mentioned something off with Lance, Keith found that his gaze kept drifting back to him, but nothing seemed out of place.

While they are eating at the restaurant, Keith found himself, as he usually did, in another conversation with Lance. As their talking started to drift to a close, Keith wracked his brain for a topic that could delay the end.

“So, Lance.” Lance glanced up, distractedly fighting the cheese that refused to detach from the pizza slice he was eating.

“Mmf?” Keith fought back a giggle at Lance’s struggle, and put another slice onto his own plate before the acrobats ate it all. He thought their stomachs would be tiny, but their appetites proved to be ridiculously large.

“Can you tell me about the show?” Keith paused, finding the right words before continuing, “Since I wasn’t really into the shows, I don’t really know that much about the storyline.”

“Wasn’t? You know wasn’t is past tense, right?” Lance grinned, and sat back. “You want to know the plot?”

“Yes, please.” Keith took a bite of the pizza and groaned. Pidge made the right choice.

Lance wiped his hands onto his napkin and hummed thoughtfully. “Well the show revolves around the growth of a prince, and his mental and physical journey through the seasons. The first performance you saw was winter.”

Keith could see that; the color theme of the first performance was mainly whites and pale blues. “Why start with winter?”

“I guess he was born in the winter.” Lance shrugged. “But anyways, he starts out as a child, and the routines are supposed to show him as he matures throughout life.”

“What about Shiro and Allura’s performance? Who are they?”

“Ah, their story is really nice. Their characters start out as friends, and with each show their relationship progresses into something more as they trust each other and become more passionate.”

Keith wondered who came up with the concepts. “That’s amazing. What happens during the rest of the seasons?”

Lance stuck out his tongue, pulling a pepperoni off of his slice to eat separately. “I can’t tell you, you’ll just have to watch.”

“Can you give me a hint?” Keith begged, and Lance pushed at his shoulder with an eye roll. Keith pouted. “Please.”

Lance caved. “Fine. The next season, spring, is when the prince meets the love of his life.”

“And?”

Lance winked, and shoved the rest of the pizza crust in his mouth so he couldn’t talk. Keith laughed and shook his head. The rest of their meal passed comfortably, although Keith couldn’t help but wonder if Lance was quieter than normal, or if that was just his imagination. It seemed as though the only time Lance said anything was when someone spoke to him.

They split the bill and Shiro stood first. “Do you guys want to go and hang out some more, or are you planning on turning in early tonight?” he asked the group, Allura standing along with him.

Lance stretched, yawning. “I think I’m going to turn in early. I’m pretty swamped.”

That sounded like a good idea; Keith found himself yawning too. “Same here.”

Everyone turned to Pidge, who was looking at Hunk. Hunk stared at Lance for a moment and shrugged. “I could use some rest.”

Lance stood to go use the restroom and Hunk took off after him. Keith turned to Pidge for an explanation. “What’s with Hunk?”

She wiped dirt off of her glasses and shifted in her seat. “Hunk is still saying that he’s getting a bad aura from Lance. I didn’t notice anything weird about him though, did you?”

“Nope, nothing. I mean he seemed a little quiet tonight, but he did say he was tired.” Keith hummed thoughtfully. “And he had been at the gym early with Allura, who was so tired she had taken a nap on the mat."

“That’s what I was thinking, but Hunk is convinced something is wrong.” She raised her palms in an ‘oh well’ motion. “But if anyone knows what Lance is feeling, it would be Hunk.”

Shiro and Allura told Pidge and Keith to pass their goodbyes on to the other two, so Keith and Pidge were left to their thoughts until Hunk returned. He slumped into his seat, woefully denying the slice of pizza Pidge tried to hand him.

“What’s the verdict?” she asked, and Hunk’s shoulders sagged even lower.

“I still believe something’s wrong, but he won’t say anything.” Hunk pouted. “If no one else, Lance at least talks to me.”

“You look frustrated but not surprised though,” Keith stated, and Hunk rolled his eyes.

“The thing you’ll learn with Lance,” Hunk explained, “Is that no matter how much he could be hurting he will still put on a happy smile and pretend everything is okay.”

“Which sucks because he’s your best friend and should be able to vent to you for comfort,” Pidge summarized, and he nodded. “Sounds like someone I know.”

Keith sat up. “You better not be talking about me, Pidge!”

She shrugged. “I never said any names!”

At that moment Lance decided to reenter the room with a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry guys, I kinda zoned out.”

“In the bathroom?” Pidge asked incredulously.  
  
Hunk frowned. “Yeah that’s...kinda weird man.”

Lance pursed his lips. “As if none of you have done it before.” Hunk and Pidge shook their heads and Lance looked at Keith for support.  
  
Keith puffed out his cheeks. “Once.”

“See!”

“Like I said, it was just one time.”

Lance chose to ignore him, and stretched. “Hunk, you ready to go back to the room?” Hunk nodded, and Lance turned to Keith and Pidge. “What are you two going to do?”

Pidge glanced at Keith. “We’ll probably go back to our room unless you want us to do something else,” she said.

Lance nibbled on his bottom lip and glanced away. “Youguyscansleepoverifyouwant.”

Keith raised a brow. “What?”

Lance huffed. “I _said,_ you guys can sleep over if you want.”

“I thought you were tired?” Hunk asked quizzically, and Lance shrugged.

“I’m exhausted, but I also want to eat ice cream. It’s lame to eat ice cream by yourself.”

“I am always in the mood to eat ice cream,” Pidge admitted. “Keith?”

“As long as I get coffee I’ll be fine.” Keith rubbed his nose. “We could watch bad movies while we eat ice cream?”

Lance brightened, and Hunk grinned, exclaiming, “That’s a great idea! What do you think, Lance?”

Lance nodded. “Ice cream is not complete without a bad sci-fi movie.”

 

 

 

Five crappy sci-fi movies and four tubs of ice cream later, Pidge was curled up on Hunk snoring softly as Keith and Lance cleaned the room.

“Lance?” Keith whispers timidly.

Lance pauses briefly and glances up. “What?”

“Was something wrong, today?” Keith can feel his heart thudding in his throat.

An eternity seems to pass before Lance looks away, murmuring, “yeah.” Keith waits patiently for an explanation, and Lance continues, “come with me.”

Before Keith can ask any questions, Lance grabs him by the wrist and pulls him out of the room. Hailing a cab, Keith fidgets in the tense silence. Lance isn’t going to drag him to a dark alley and hurt him right?

As Keith’s mind races to a million different dark scenarios, he notices Lance had directed the driver to the gym, where Lance unlocks the door for them.

“Are performers allowed to have a key to the gym?” Keith asks curiously.

“Not normally, but I come here for extra practice sometimes, so Coran snuck one to me.” Lance turns on the light and disappears, so Keith makes himself comfortable by the mirror on the mat.

Silk is lowered to the ground and Lance reappears, and it is only now that Keith realizes that Lance is still wearing his practice clothes. Soft music is playing from the speakers, and Lance takes his place on the silk.

As Lance begins to move, Keith is struck once again by how graceful his movements are. Lance is a bit lanky, but on the ropes his limbs seem to add to the beauty of the performance. Keith watches in awed silence as Lance goes up, and down, and twists as though physics does not apply to him.

Lance wraps his arms around the rope and effortlessly slides into the splits. Keith wonders if there will ever come a time when he is not shocked by Lance’s flexibility. Keith can’t tear his eyes away; not that he would ever want to.

Sweat drips down Lance’s brow and Keith lets out a light gasp when Lance twists himself up and moves faster than Keith’s eyes can follow. It’s perfect -

“Shit!” Lance curses, and Keith lurches forward as Lance slides down the silk. Keith manages to brace his fall; the last thing Lance needs right before a performance is to be injured.

Keith lays Lance to the ground and squats beside him. “Are you okay?”

Lance is staring down at his red palms, blank. “No.”

“Is this what had you so down today?” Keith asks gently, and places a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

Lance looks up with shining eyes, and to Keith’s horror, a tear slides out. “Everyone is counting on me, and all I do is hold them back.” Lance looked away and sighed. Keith frowned and pinched Lance’s arm. “Dude! What the heck?”

Keith frowned. “Look man, you’re the center of everything, and you’re right. Your team is counting on you, but the only way you’re letting them down isn’t by messing up the choreography, it’s by feeling bad for yourself.” Keith grabbed Lance’s face to force him to make eye contact. “Do you know why everyone practices so hard?”

“Uh, no?”

“Because they’re practicing for _you,_ Lance. They know how hard you’re working, and don’t want to let you down. You may be the center of the action, but they are also there for you to lean on for support. They don’t want to mess things up for you. Performing is your life.”

Lance’s lips were parted, and Keith breathed heavily. “You believe that?” Lance’s voice was small, and if Keith wasn’t as close as he was he wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“I do,” he answered confidently. Standing, he offered Lance a hand.

“What are you doing?"

“Come on, you’re going to practice that section until you get it right,” Keith ordered.

Lance huffed, but Keith could see that the signature light in his eyes was beginning to return. “Aren’t you tired?” he asked.

Keith rolled his eyes. “I’m always tired. We’re going to stay here all night if we have to, and I am going to make sure you don’t give up.”

Lance used Keith’s hand to stand and held on a bit longer than he needed. “Thanks, Keith.”

Keith flushed and cleared his throat awkwardly. “You were thinking too much. Leave the thinking to Pidge.”

Lance chuckled and Keith moved away to give him space. It took a couple tries, but to his joy, Lance managed to get it, and it looked absolutely effortless. Then he did it again.

And again.

And again.

Lance giggled, and hopped off the silk to rush over and wrap Keith in his long arms, sweeping him off the floor.

“Keith, I did it! I can’t believe it!” Lance exclaimed, and Keith couldn’t help but hug him back.

“I knew you could do it.” Lance gently returned Keith to his rightful place on the ground, and Keith studied Lance’s eyes curiously. “What changed?”

Lance scratched the back of his neck. “Well, Mullet Man, you said to stop thinking, so I did. Whenever it was time for me to do the move I was thinking about how to carry it out, but that was messing me up. So, I stopped thinking and just let my body take over.”

“Who knew not thinking would work?” Keith asked with a grin.

Lance smirked. “According to you, you did.”

Lance started his cool down and when they exited the gym, Keith shivered. Though the Vegas air was frigid, his chest was warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/princekalon)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this story so far!


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